The Founder's Pendants
by Spiral Digger
Summary: Snape POV. Written before HBP. The spirit of Salazar Slytherin has been released into an unwilling Snape and as the charismatic Founder takes charge of his body, Severus discovers the only way to regain control is through his own Slytherin cunning.
1. The Choice Will Be Yours

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is the property of J.K. Rowling. This original story, however, is mine. Chapter One – The Choice Will Be Yours 

Severus Snapemanaged to catch himself before falling headlong to the forest floor, but the stumble still cost him precious seconds. With a quick glance over his shoulder, the Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry resolutely pushed himself back and hurried on.

Snape allowed himself a second to glance down at the ornately carved wooden box held securely to his chest by one shaking arm. It had nearly cost him life, he knew, and might still, for that matter. He glanced around the darkening forest, alert to any movement.

The hum of distant human activity was growing steadily louder as he hastened forward and he knew that help was nearby. Members of the Order of the Phoenix had been planning on attending the Quidditch World Cup this year and his life now depended upon finding them.

Not for the first time since he had appeared in the woods next to the stadium did Snape curse the organizers' decision not to allow Apparating too close to the main event. Instead, he had been forced to run for it, hoping that he would not see any innocent civilians also Apparating nearby to enjoy the festivities. If he did end up running into his enemies, he did not want innocent bystanders getting caught in the middle.

He tripped again and this time fell face first into the forest floor, his hand flying up a fraction too late to prevent his cheekbone from impacting a sharp rock. The resulting pain kept Snape down this time, his head swimming. Idly, he decided that he should probably rest for a moment and try to catch his breath. At least the box was still securely in front of him, he thought. Nothing else mattered at the moment.

Snape sighed heavily. Mere hours ago he had been sitting comfortably in front of his fire, reading a book and sipping a well-aged brandy. He shook his head and slowly lifted himself back to his feet. He decided to take it a bit more slowly this time and actually watch the path before him for protruding roots.

His head swam with the new assault to his face and he found his mind wandering slightly as he ran. He began to reflect on the evening he had just had with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Dumbledore had always told him that this day would come and that he would have to be prepared for it. While it was a constant threat that Voldemort would one day discover him, he had never envisioned it happening this way.

"The choice will be completely yours, Severus," Dumbledore had said to him many years before. "Something will happen one day and you will have to decide for yourself which is more important; remaining a spy or preventing the thing occurring before you, whatever that may be."

Over the many years that he had acted as spy for Dumbledore, Severus had tried to imagine what that thing would be. Honestly, he had begun to believe that the "thing" he would one day have to rescue from under Voldemort's nose would be that brat, Harry Potter, not the box currently clenched to his chest.

He involuntarily heaved another deep sigh. Dumbledore had been right, as usual. Snape had known the second Voldemort had triumphantly announced to his gathered Death Eaters what lay within the ornate box that his days as spy had ended. If the speed with which he had acted had surprised everyone around him, it had utterly shocked Snape himself. He had always thought of himself as a calculating man, never acting without due thought and consideration. On this occasion, however, another part of him had evidently taken the reigns. Before Voldemort had even finished his sentence, Snape had stepped forward, grabbed the box from the table in front of the Dark Lord, ducked down low and Apparated.

Voldemort was always ready for treachery, however. Those Death Eaters "invited" to his meetings were closely monitored for signs of betrayal. By way of the Dark Mark on their arms, Death Eaters were brought to the meetings by Voldemort's force alone. When summoned, they were simply to make their way to a secluded spot and Apparate. From there Voldemort directed them to the location of his choice. Once their original Apparation point was known by the Dark Lord, several of his own Death Squad members were sent there to wait.

Reluctantly, Snape had to admit that the idea was sound enough. Thanks to some Dark magic of Voldemort's design, once a meeting was over, Death Eaters could only ever use their first Apparation to return back to their original location. And there the Death Squad waited for them. If no sign arrived from Voldemort, they sent them on their way. If, however, they felt the warning burn on their Dark Mark from their Master, they cursed to death the first person to Apparate in front of them. Simple but effective. No easy escape for traitors.

So, Snape had known that several Death Eaters were waiting for him back in the clearing outside of Hogwarts' grounds when he Apparated out of Voldemort's meeting. This knowledge was his best defence against them, however. Knowing they would be there, Snape had Apparated in a crouched position and arrived low to the ground. The curses that had been intended for his head and chest had passed over him harmlessly, several of them actually striking other Death Eaters behind him. He had Apparated out of there again as quickly as possible, leaving nothing but confusion in his wake.

The plan was not faultless, however. Though it took some time, it was not impossible for a gifted witch or wizard to track an Apparation. It was just a matter of time. They were coming for him, of that he was certain.

With the noise ahead growing steadily louder, Snape dared to increase his speed again, the pain in his head receding somewhat. McGonagall would be the logical person to try and find. He was certain she'd left Hogwarts for the match early this morning. It would not be easy, of course, as several thousand people were in attendance at the Cup. He knew a red flare from his wand would instantly bring help but he did not want to risk a repeat of the stampede the Death Eaters had caused at the World Cup several years earlier.

A noise behind him made Snape stop in his tracks, his head snapping around. He listened, aware that his breathing had increased and his heart was beating quickly. A snapped twig. Whispered voices. Death Eaters.

Snape swore under his breath and burst forward with a new found vigour. Fear coursed through him and he ignored the pain now washing through his head. A shadow passed through the trees in front of him and he halted abruptly, his hands slick with the sweat of fear. They were in front of him too. They must have Apparated all around him. He was surrounded.

Wildly, Snape looked in all directions for a clear path of escape. Shadows moving everywhere. Instinctively, he grabbed for his wand and tried to Apparate. Nothing.

A low laugh wound its way through the trees behind him and Snape froze. Lucius Malfoy. "We've put up our own dampening field, Severus. Your trapped, I'm afraid. Like a rat, as it were. Rather a fitting comparison really. Expelliarmus!" Snape's wand flew from his hand and disappeared into Malfoy's hand.

Snape turned slowly to face his old "friend", his heart beating so loudly he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. The site of Malfoy's smug face as he approached slowly through the trees, wand raised, made Snape's eyes narrow. He would not yield to this man, or any other for that matter. He would have no choice but to writhe in pain once they began to "play" with the Crucio, he knew, but he would meet his enemy now with his pride intact.

Snape straightened to his full, imposing height and lifted his chin, his eyes steady on Malfoy's pointed face. Malfoy, in turn, laughed deeply as he approached. "Ever the cool and collected presence, eh, Severus? Not just a little bit afraid of what the Dark Lord is going to do to you?"

Snape felt his throat constrict but his face remained impassive and his eyes unreadable. He would not be drawn into one of Malfoy's word games. He would meet his enemy's taunting with resolute silence, thus robbing him of the opportunity to enjoy himself at his expense. It was not much, but it was the last bit of personal power and dignity that Snape had.

Malfoy watched him for a moment and then finally shrugged, turning away as he did so. "Very well, Severus. Have it your way. The Dark Lord has instructed that you be returned alive." He looked back at Snape. "But then I'm sure that doesn't surprise you. You know he likes to take care of these things himself." The smile Malfoy levelled at Snape caused his insides to churn, not because Malfoy was particularly adept at delivering frightening smiles but because Snape knew what its implication was. He knew he would be begging for death within the next few hours.

"Take him!" Malfoy ordered as he turned away and two more Death Eaters appeared from behind Snape, their hands outstretched.

Snape would later wonder at the thought processes that had taken place in his mind during those next few seconds. The entire experience, he would reflect, had apparently robbed him of all his usual measured and methodical ways because once again he found himself acting with the speed of a cornered cat. Before he had even had a chance to fully consider the implications of what he was doing, he had thrown himself onto the forest floor, wrenched open the wooden box and grabbed the item within it. Clutching the thing firmly in his left hand, he had muttered (or had he shouted?) the incantation needed to release the sleeping spirit within it.

All time seemed to slow at that point. Snape felt a sudden heat in his hand and was aware of Malfoy turning back to him, his eyes widening in surprise. "Stop him!" he screamed, his cape swirling around him like black water and his blue eyes blazing with fury.

Snape felt the world around him spin as a strange warmth entered through his left hand and coursed its way through his entire body like a small tidal wave. His eyes darkened and he fell onto his back, the fist clasping the item still held in the air above him. As he watched through closing eyes, bright green light suddenly shot through his clenched fingers and drenched the darkening forest around him with ethereal emerald beams.

The two Death Eaters who had been behind him were now directly over him and one grabbed desperately for the thing in Snape's hand. Nearing unconsciousness now, he was only vaguely aware that the man trying to grab his extended hand was suddenly fired backwards into the forest. Dimly, he heard wailing all around him as men scrambled to escape the angry light. Unaware of why he was doing it, Snape suddenly opened his mouth and screamed for the men to leave before he cursed them all to the grave. The problem was, he reflected just before the darkness of unconsciousness took him, the voice wasn't his.


	2. Brats, Old and New

Chapter Two – Brats, Old and New 

****

Snape was boiling Neville Longbottom in his own cauldron. He was following a recipe in an open book beside him and happily added some nicely aged brandy to the pot, stirring occasionally. When Snape looked up, however, much to his annoyance, not only was Neville not boiled but he was also asking for instructions as to what he should do with his left over Wolfsbane. Snape heard muffled voices behind him and suddenly wondered if maybe he shouldn't be cooking students. 

With a start, he opened his eyes and sat bolt upright in bed.

A strong hand pushed him back down and he tried to struggle. A firm but friendly voice, still muffled, told him that he was safe and to try and relax. Snape forced himself to focus on the face hovering over him, his breathing ragged and quick.

Albus Dumbledore's face finally clarified before him and Snape felt the tension and fear immediately abandon his body. He slumped back onto the bed and sighed. "Head Master," he whispered. "I'm so glad to see you."

Dumbledore gave him a kindly smile and nodded. "I can imagine, Severus. You've been through quite an ordeal."

As though suddenly remembering something, Snape brought his left hand up sharply and looked at it. It was empty. "Where . . .?"

Dumbledore put a reassuring hand on Snape's shoulder and smiled warmly. "Back in its box. No need to worry."

Snape tried to sit up, his eyes searching Dumbledore's face earnestly, "But I...I released it. I..."

Dumbledore nodded gently and pushed him back down again. "I know, Severus. And it's a good thing you did. I cannot even begin to imagine what would have happened had Voldemort managed to perform the Releasing Incantation himself. We are all in your debt. Again. Your days as spy, however, would seem to be over."

Snape tried to put his thoughts into order and suddenly looked around at his surroundings. He was back at Hogwarts. How had he gotten here?

As if reading his thoughts, Dumbledore looked at him over top of his half-moon glasses, "Several members of the Order, who were in attendance at the World Cup, saw a strange green light emanating from the forest and went to investigate. They found you just before the Death Eaters regrouped and came back. They put up quite a fight for you, apparently. I dare say Voldemort is a few Death Eaters short today."

Snape furrowed his brow. Members of the Order had taken on the Death Eaters to save him? But who . . .?  Snape put his head back on his pillow and moaned just as Harry Potter's head popped around the corner of the partition. Of course. Who else?

"Is he alright, Professor?" he asked Dumbledore.

Dumbledore looked back at Harry and smiled warmly. He turned back to Snape while answering him, a twinkle in his eye. "He'll be fine. He owes you his life, it seems, Harry." His last words had been spoken while looking his Potions Master directly in the eye. Snape's eyes narrowed in response, not only at the realization that he owed his life to Harry Potter but also at the great pleasure his Head Master seemed to be taking in telling him.

Behind Dumbledore, Snape saw Harry give a dismissive little wave of his hand and mutter, "Nah," with a self-conscious and lopsided grin. Snape suddenly wanted to strangle him.

As if actually attempting to rub in his debt to him even further, Harry happily reached into his robes and pulled out Snape's wand. He smiled and watched the other man's expression expectantly. "I found it near where we found you, Professor."

Snape sat up abruptly, reached out and smartly snatched the wand from Harry's hand. His lips moved as though he was trying to say something, but no words seemed willing to come out.

Harry nodded and said, "Your welcome."

Snape slowly lowered himself back onto the bed, his wand still in his hand and looked away from Harry. "What happened to Malfoy?" he asked Dumbledore.

By way of an answer, Dumbledore looked over his shoulder at Harry, his eyebrow raised.

Harry's smile faded, "He got away. Apparated as soon as he saw us." He looked down at his feet and mumbled, "Sorry, Professor."

For a moment, Snape wasn't sure which one of them he was addressing but responded anyway. "Unless you've suddenly developed skills previously unknown to your teachers and discovered a way to create a personal dampening field, Potter, I hardly see how you could have stopped him, despite your legendary Gryffindor courage."

Harry looked up in surprise. Though most would have regarded Snape's comment as a blatant insult, Harry obviously knew his Potions Master well enough to see it for the reassurance it was intended to be. Harry nodded, the smile returning to his face.

Snape sighed inwardly, wondering what had possessed him to let the brat off the hook. He knew, of course, that Harry could not have stopped Malfoy, but he could of at least enjoyed watching him despair for a bit longer. He was clearly getting soft in his old age.

Dumbledore suddenly rose and looked down at Snape, his eyes still twinkling. "Well, when you're feeling better, Severus, I'd like to see you in my office for a full debriefing."

Snape nodded curtly as the Head Master turned away from him. As he passed by Harry, Dumbledore said pleasantly, "You too, please."

Harry nodded enthusiastically, still smiling. The smile faltered somewhat, however, when he looked down at Snape's murderous expression. Swallowing once, Harry made his excuses and left the hospital wing behind Dumbledore.

Once alone, Snape sighed deeply and put his head back on his pillow. He knew it would not be long before Poppy Pomfrey would be in to check on her patient and he tried to use the few quiet moments he knew he had to organize his thoughts. 

Alright then, he thought. Best just to deal with the cold hard facts. Keep emotion out of it. So, he had released the spirit of Salazar Slytherin into the forest beside the Quidditch World Cup where it was now free to roam the country. Said quickly and lightly, it didn't actually sound that bad, he reflected. Others, surely, had done worse than that. Surely.

It had been a decision made in haste and panic. He had known that he was about to die and that Malfoy would return Slytherin's spirit to Voldemort. Better to release it into the unknown than to allow it to share occupancy in the Dark Lord's body. Right? He sighed. Well, at least Dumbledore seemed to agree with his reasoning. He had said that he was grateful for the decision he had made. Right?

Snape shook his head. Indecision and second-guessing were not attributes usually associated with the Potions Master of Hogwarts and he found himself worrying about why he was second-guessing himself. Circular thinking, Severus, he chastised. Not helpful.

He had not had second thoughts when he had first realized what Voldemort had in his possession, however. How, he wondered not for the first time, had the Dark Lord found one of the Pendants of the Founders? Wizards had searched for almost a thousand years and had never found so much as a clue to their whereabouts. Some had even begun to doubt whether the Pendants even truly existed. He himself had always believed them to be a myth. The idea that the Four Founders of Hogwarts had left imprints of their spirits imbedded in four pendants just seemed . . . odd. What would be the purpose? If their intention had been to allow their spirits to be available to offer advice in later years, why not just leave behind portraits? They certainly weren't shy about offering their opinions after all.

Snape sighed and rolled over again, his mind churning. He realized with some surprise that he had never actually seen any portraits of the Founders. Considering how immensely powerful and important they had been, it struck him as very odd indeed. 

He was just wondering about the other three Pendants and where they might be when Madam Pomfrey made her entrance as expected and bustled over to Snape. "Well, I'm glad to see they're finally letting you rest, Severus. Nasty injuries these. You'll be here a few days, I dare say." She snatched the wand unceremoniously out of his hand and put it on the table beside the bed. She then busied herself with pulling up his covers and checking the wound on his face, talking all the while about having to care for patients in the middle of a freeway. 

Many years of having injuries treated by Poppy Pomfrey had taught Snape that a sarcastic retort of any sort would be rewarded with an additional day in the hospital and several nasty tasting (and probably unnecessary) medicines. As she fussed about, Snape wondered idly what he'd have to do to repay Potter for saving his life. The notion of owing the brat a life debt was intolerable to him. It smacked of James Potter, a thought that churned Snape's stomach.

Snape was suddenly feeling very sleepy and was only dimly aware that Madam Pomfrey's voice had just ended in a question. He refocused on her face, "Pardon?" he said.

Madam Pomfrey smiled warmly and folded her hands in front of her. "I was just asking you what you think of our young Mr. Potter now, Severus. I hear he saved your life."

Snape snorted and yawned, his eyes beginning to close. "You don't want to know what I think. He could save my life a thousand times and I'd still think Godric Gryffindor was an arrogant brat."

Snape was asleep before he could register Madam Pomfrey's confused expression.


	3. The Well Dressed Man

**Chapter 3 – The Well-Dressed Man**

Snape awoke in what felt like the early hours of morning. Though he didn't actually remember it, he was certain that he had been dreaming about boiling Harry in his own cauldron. He allowed a tiny smile to curl his lips before turning over to attempt more sleep. He was abruptly brought back to full consciousness, however, by the sound of whispered voices outside the hospital wing doors. They must have initially caused him to wake, he mused, and sat up to look around the side of the privacy partition beside his bed.

The door flew open and several people bustled into the room, among them Dumbledore and McGonagall, still in their nightclothes. Snape disentangled himself from the bed sheets and stood, grabbing a sterile-looking hospital robe from the bedside chair.

He hurried around the partition and stopped dead in his tracks. Supported between Dumbledore and a man he recognized as a member of the Order, was a tall woman with waist-length, copper-coloured hair. He supposed she would probably have been beautiful if half her face had not been burned black. Though he had seen many degrading and horrible things done to human bodies over the years, he always felt his gut clench momentarily when first confronted by it.

"What happened?" he asked, moving forward to help the men place the wounded woman on a nearby bed.

"Long story," the man from the Order said, weariness and tension playing across his face.

McGonagall turned to the door at the back of the ward. "I'll fetch Poppy," she said in a shaky voice and hurried off.

Dumbledore looked up at Snape for a moment, meeting his eyes briefly before looking back down at the woman before him. "I think we need to have a talk, Severus," he said, his eyes filled with worry.

Before Snape could reply, however, the main entrance to the ward banged opened again and two more men entered. These men he knew. Hildebrand and Boyle. Two more members of the Order and employees of the Ministry for Magic. The woman supported between them made the first woman look the picture of health. Snape could not actually discern human features on the burned face and it was only by the obvious presence of breasts beneath her shirt that he was able to identify her as female at all. He wondered if she was even alive.

Madam Pomfrey scurried down the ward from her rooms, followed closely by McGonagall, and stopped when she saw the two women. 'Oh, my," she whispered hoarsely. She quickly regained her senses, however, and pointed to a bed nearby. "There!" she ordered Hildebrand and Boyle and turned briskly to the medicine cabinet behind her. "Now, everyone out!"

Everyone obeyed, including Snape. Too busy to notice her original patient's premature departure from her care, Madam Pomfrey hurried to attend to the most severely burned patient.

The group moved out of the ward and into the hall. The three men who had accompanied Dumbledore and McGonagall quickly excused themselves, clearly exhausted and wanting to return to their homes. Dumbledore pardoned them with a hearty expression of gratitude.

Once alone with Snape and McGonagall, Dumbledore turned to them, his expression earnest. "I suppose it's time we all had a little chat, my friends. Can I offer you tea in my rooms?"

Snape and McGonagall looked at one another before nodding their agreement, their curiosity palatable. They followed him down the hall and away from the hospital wing. Snape glanced back before rounding the last corner, concern evident on his face.

Several hours later, Snape sat in his private rooms, a brandy in hand, wondering how to begin digesting all the information he had just been presented with. A muted yellow light was beginning to filter into the room, driving the shadows back into the corners. He sighed and wished that Dumbledore had respected his original request, all those years ago, to have his living quarters in the dungeons. Darkness had a certain quiet, after all, that allowed one to ponder and to reflect. Dumbledore's belief in the psychological well-being created by sunshine was utterly unfounded, as far as he was concerned.

He glanced down at the brandy and sighed. Despite what Dumbledore had told him this evening, he just couldn't bring himself to believe that the spirit of Salazar Slytherin was currently residing inside him. There had simply been no sign of him in there. According to the Headmaster, this lack of activity was a positive thing, however, and he had quickly gone on to reassure Snape that Slytherin was likely too weak to be any real threat to him anyway.

Snape finished the brandy in his glass and rose slowly from the chair. He was still in the hospital robe he had grabbed earlier and was beginning to tire of its medicinal smell. He needed a shower, not only to clean himself, but to help clear his mind. 

He stepped into the bathroom and stripped out of the stark hospital robes. He never looked at his own reflection in the mirror unless he absolutely had to. Even then he had an amazing ability to look at himself but not actually see himself. Shaving could be a relatively simple thing when one looked at the shaving cream instead of the face under it.

Stepping into the warm shower brought an unexpected moan of pleasure from Snape and he closed his eyes as he put his face under the water. As always, he envisioned the water washing away all of his sins and all of his cares. His mind began to clear and he found he could finally think about the evening.

Of course he had always known that his family was very distantly descended from Salazar Slytherin. Very distantly. Many of the older families were, in fact. He was fairly certain that Arthur Weasley could trace his lineage back to both Slytherin and Gryffindor. That, in and of itself, meant very little. The implications of being a descendant of Slytherin were of a more personal nature for Snape right now. 

Dumbledore had taken both himself and McGonagall back to his rooms to explain the situation to them and had suggested that they be prepared for a bit of a stay. Once settled in, he had patiently explained that Snape had not released the spirit of Slytherin into space, but had actually released it into himself.

While momentarily shocked, Snape had recovered quickly. He was, after all, somewhat familiar with the story of the Founder's Pendants. The spirits within them could only be released into the last remaining direct "heir" of each founder. Clearly, in the case of Slytherin, that was the Dark Lord, not him.

As always, Dumbledore had listened patiently and smiled. No, he had explained, that part of the story was not entirely accurate. The spirits could only be released into a descendent. Any descendent. The more distant, however, the weaker the Founder's spirit was likely to be.

Well, that, at least, had been good news to Snape as he knew his connection to Slytherin was very tenuous indeed. Learning that the two women who had been brought into the hospital ward earlier in the evening were descendants of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had then come as little surprise to him. The condition they had arrived in, however, had been somewhat of a surprise.

Dumbledore had sadly explained to them that as soon as he had realized what Snape had brought back with him, he had sent out search teams for the descendants of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. He had been unable to locate them in time, however, and the Death Eaters had found them first. While both Slytherin and Gryffindor had many, many descendants within the wizarding world, the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff lines had both dwindled to almost nothing over the centuries. The two women currently in the hospital wing of Hogwarts were all that remained of their lineages.

Still believing that Salazar's spirit was afloat somewhere in Britain, Voldemort had apparently thought it too dangerous to risk having any of the other Founders loose to possibly thwart his recovery efforts so he had ordered the descendants of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff eliminated. Since it would not be realistic to have all the descendents of Gryffindor done away with, Voldemort had likely just accepted that he might have to deal with him one-on-one. Better one than three.  

Dumbledore's people had arrived in both locations a fraction too late to prevent the Death Eater attacks on the two women. He told Snape and McGonagall that while he expected the Ravenclaw descendant might survive, he doubted the other would. The spirit locked within the Pendant of Hufflepuff would, therefore, remain imprisoned for eternity.

The two of them had left Dumbledore's rooms silent and tired. After a strained exchange of "good nights", they had both returned to their own rooms to consider the events of the evening.

Snape sighed now and shook the water from his face, shutting off the shower almost without thought. He towelled himself off slowly, his mind wandering, and wrapped the towel around his waist. He made his way into the bedroom, preparing to dress for the day ahead. So, he thought as he stopped in front of a large wardrobe, Salazar Slytherin is casting around inside my head. At least it would appear that he's too weak to do any damage. I'm sure Dumbledore will find a way to release him back into his Pendant soon.

A clear, deep male voice suddenly spoke directly behind Snape's left ear, close enough that he felt certain he should have felt the man's breath on his face. "Don't count on it, my boy."

Snape dropped the robes he had just pulled from the wardrobe and whirled around to face the man behind him. Only, there was no one there. Though readily able to recognize that he perhaps lacked in certain social skills, Snape knew that he did not lack in intelligence. He knew immediately to whom the voice belonged. Slytherin.

Snape stilled his breathing and turned back to the wardrobe. He had to dress quickly and get to Dumbledore, he thought.

"That won't help you, my dear Severus. I assure you that tired old fool is no match for Salazar Slytherin!"

Snape whirled back around, his heart thumping quickly. Alright, he thought. No time to lose. I must go now! He leaned down to retrieve the fallen robes with one unsteady hand and abruptly halted, his hand in mid-air before him.

Without instructing it to do so, the hand suddenly seemed to take on a life of its own and slowly came up in front of his face. Leisurely, it turned in front of him as though under inspection. Snape struggled internally to make it stop but to no avail. "Hmm," the voice purred. "Good hands. Strong. I can definitely use these." The voice was no longer inside his head, however. Though it was his own voice he heard, Snape knew the words had not been his. He had lost control of his body. To Salazar Slytherin.

Snape turned, again without willing his body to do so, and walked purposely back to the bathroom. "Let's see what else we have here." Snape screamed internally for his body to obey him and halt, but he may as well have been screaming into a hurricane for all the good it did. 

"Now, now, my boy, don't hurt yourself in there," Salazar said, now in complete control of Snape's voice. "I promise I won't hurt this. I need it too." As he spoke, Salazar ran his hand down Snape's chest, now, apparently, his own.

Once in front of the mirror in the bathroom, Salazar stopped and took a long look at Snape's reflection. "Yes, I see," he said thoughtfully. "Definitely something to work with here." He ran his hand through the thick black hair and nodded. "I'm at quite a loss to understand why you think you're too grotesque to look at, Severus."

Internally, Snape felt hot anger shoot through his consciousness, the feeling of being violated almost more than he could tolerate. Get out! he felt himself scream into his own head.

In the mirror, Snape saw his reflection laugh mirthlessly back at him. "I'm afraid I can't do that, dear Severus. I think this body is overdue for new management," his own face replied.

Snape began to curse the presence of Slytherin within his body with all the hatred he could summon, but immediately found himself silenced as though an invisible gag had been shoved into his equally invisible mouth. "I don't much feel like listening to you right now, my boy," Salazar said smoothly. "You must learn some respect if you are to have a voice in this relationship. In the meantime, we really do need a better mirror than this."

Slytherin moved back into the bedroom and, without the use of a wand, transfigured a teacup into a full-length mirror. 

Snape watched in amazement. He had heard the stories of how the Founders had used magic without wands but had never imagined them to be true. Resigned to the fact that he was temporarily out of control of his own body, Snape decided to revert back to his standard operating mode and watch and wait. Salazar was, after all, basically unfamiliar with this world and with this body. He was bound to give Snape an opportunity to regain control if he waited long enough.

As Slytherin examined himself in the full-length mirror, he began to laugh again, this time quite loudly. "Ah, dear Severus. I'm so proud. You're a true Slytherin, aren't you? Waiting in the grass like a snake. I'm sorry to disappoint you, however. I have no intention of slipping up and giving you an opportunity. You see, I know everything you're thinking. I know exactly how you behave and exactly how to be in your world. Did you not find it strange that a man who lived almost a thousand years ago would suggest your body was in need of "new management"? I believe you heard one of your students say something similar last term and you reluctantly found it amusing. Remember?"

Snape felt his hopes deflate. If his thoughts were not even private, then he truly was a prisoner of Salazar Slytherin. In every respect.

Salazar turned and looked at his back in the mirror. "Oh, you mustn't think of yourself as my prisoner, dear boy. Think of yourself as my guest." He turned back to face the mirror straight on. He lifted his arms to the side and turned sideways. "Yes, this is very nice. Taller than I was before. That's very nice, indeed. Slim and well proportioned." He stepped closer to the mirror and pulled back his lips to look at his teeth. "Oh, there's a problem," he said looking at the uneven, yellow teeth in front of him. "I'm surprised at you, Severus. Such a simple spell to fix these."

Snape felt himself internally hold his breath and he tried to clear his mind of all thought. Yes! Let Salazar fix them! Let him fix them!

With a wave of his hand and a muttered spell, Snape's teeth suddenly straightened and gleamed white behind his lips. Snape could not hold back a feeling of sudden triumph. That would definitely not go unnoticed by his fellow teachers, and it would especially not get by Dumbledore. They all knew that he would never do something so shallow, so vain, so . . . Lockhart.

Another chuckle from Salazar silenced his thoughts, however. "Don't worry about that, Severus. I don't know if you've noticed, but no one, not even Dumbledore, looks that closely at you." 

Snape felt another wave of disappointment sweep over him and he resigned himself, once again, to temporarily watching and waiting.

Salazar ran a hand through his hair again and grimaced. "Do you have some kind of aversion to shampoo, my dear boy?" he asked the reflection and waved his hand again. Another muttered spell resulted in Snape's hair being pulled back on the sides, away from his face, and shining cleanly in the morning light. Slytherin turned his head to examine his handy work and seemed quite pleased with the result. 

For a reason that Snape could not explain, he suddenly felt ashamed at the reflection before him. Salazar sniffed with displeasure and turned his head back to look straight into his own eyes. "Don't let that man decide how you feel about your appearance, boy!" he said angrily. "Jealous, he was! No doubt about that. A handsome son showed him up for the ugly brute he was! We won't be hiding behind a greasy curtain of shame anymore, my boy! Oh, no!"

Salazar swept away from the mirror and Snape's view of himself instantly vanished. He felt a sudden and deep confusion. Had Salazar been referring to his father? Feelings long pushed down were threatening to come up and he felt resentful at their presence. With effort, he pressed them back down and silently brooded over his circumstances.

Salazar, in the meantime, had confidently walked back to the wardrobe and grabbed one of Snape's black outfits. "Now that's better. Very nice. Clean lines. Dignified. Not unlike what I used to wear myself. Very good taste, my son. Very good, indeed."

Snape felt a small twinge of pride surface before he angrily pushed it away. The small smile on Salazar's face, however, told Snape that it had not gone unnoticed.

Once dressed, Salazar strode back to the mirror, his head high. He put his hands on his hips and let the flowing robes fall around him dramatically. "Oh, yes. Don't we look nice," he purred. "Who wouldn't want us?"

As Salazar swept from the room, Snape felt nothing but embarrassed shame sweep over him.


	4. So, What Should We Do Today, Severus?

**Chapter 4 – So, What Should We Do Today, Severus?**

            Salazar swept through the halls of the teacher's private wing of Hogwarts, his head held high and his robes billowing behind him. Snape noted idly that the man was using his voice to hum a tune that sounded somewhat Celtic. "Do you like music, Severus?" Salazar asked the empty air in front of him.

            Snape felt renewed hope surge through him. If Slytherin kept walking around the school singing and talking to himself in the third person, someone was eventually going to ask a few questions.

            Salazar chuckled. "No need to worry, my lad. We are quite alone at the moment, I assure you." He swept around a corner and sighed. "Oh, it feels glorious to be back! How I have missed these hallowed halls of learning! So many of these designs were my own, you know, and what a splendid job I did of them, if I may say so myself. Look at those light sconces. Terrifying, aren't they?" He waved cheerfully at several contorted gargoyles attached to the stone walls. "I bet they still  manage to frighten the young ones!"

            Snape could not help but marvel at the man's relentless self-confidence. He truly seemed to believe himself grand in every way. He wondered how that must feel. 

Salazar swept some rogue hair from his eyes and smiled, "It feels like freedom, my boy. It feels like . . ." He stopped in mid-sentence and halted in his tracks. He turned slowly to an open window beside him and closed his eyes. 

A cool breeze washed over Snape's face and he knew that Slytherin must be feeling it as well. He was suddenly aware of the smell of autumn flowers drifting through the hall and wondered why he had never noticed them before now. 

            Opening his eyes, Salazar slowly walked to the open window and stood before it. With a dramatic wave of his hand, he pushed the window open as far as it would go and put his head back. He closed his eyes again and threw his arms open wide as though inviting the morning sun in to the castle. "Oh, gods," he breathed. "I'd forgotten." He lifted his head and slowly opened his eyes, his arms still wide to the outside world. "A thousand years it's been, my boy. How could I have forgotten what the sun feels like on bare flesh?"

            Snape found himself drawn into Slytherin's exuberant experience and felt something deep inside him begin to panic. He wanted to move away from the open window, pull his arms back under his robes and retreat to the shadows. Standing before the world with his arms outstretched made him feel more vulnerable than he had felt since he was a child.

            Slytherin suddenly dropped his arms and turned from the window. "I know, my boy. Forgive me. All a bit too fast, isn't it?"

            Snape felt a shutter pass through his consciousness that might almost have been a wave of fear. What was too fast? What was Slytherin planning?

If Salazar had heard Snape's last thought, he gave no indication of it. Instead, he continued down the hall, away from the teacher's quarters. "Well," he said, "not a teaching day. That's good. At some point you're going to have to explain to me when my school also became a Wizarding University. I can get the general gist of it from your mind, but I suspect there's more to the story than just a need to restructure the educational system, isn't there?" He clapped his hands together and rubbed them happily. "But in the meantime, we have much to do. Where should we begin?" 

Slytherin stopped at the end of hall. He had a choice to turn either right or left. He motioned casually down the left corridor. "Well, we need to get our hands on the Founder's Pendant Box at some point."

            We do? Wondered Snape. Why? Slytherin's spirit had already been released from the pendant. It was just an empty shell now, wasn't it?

            Slytherin then lifted his right hand and pointed down the right hand corridor, "But we also need to see our special lady at some point."

            Special lady? What special lady?

            Slytherin looked left down the corridor once again, clearly trying to decide. "Hmm. Dumbledore is likely in his office right now, so we will probably have to wait a bit for the box, so," he look right, "I say we go say hello."

            Before Snape could wonder who they were about to visit, Salazar swept his robes up in a dramatic swish of material and hastened down the right-hand hall, a broad and self-assured smile on his face. "Oh, this body is just wonderful for stalking about in, isn't it?"

            The hospital wing was quiet when Slytherin entered. He moved slowly down the ward, his hands clasped in front of him and his usual confidence muted.

            Now being somewhat familiar with his body's intruder, Snape had expected him to take them straight to the tall, beautiful woman he had seen the previous evening. He was suitably surprised, therefore, when they stopped in front of the other, dowdier looking woman instead. He felt a tug of emotion that he knew was not his own when his eyes swept over her face. On some level, he was aware that he was experiencing Slytherin's emotions more profoundly as time passed and he wondered if their connection was growing stronger.

            Salazar moved around the side of the bed and sat down in the chair. While the woman's face had been healed and no sign of the original burns remained, she had a stillness about her that suggested death hovered nearby. To Snape's amazement, he felt a tear, that he knew to be Salazar's, sting his eye. The sensation was one that he had not experienced for countless years and it left him feeling strangely vulnerable.

            Pulling the chair closer to the bed, Slytherin gently grasped the woman's hand. She made no move to suggest she was aware of his presence, but he stroked her hand softly anyway. He looked away from the woman's face and into the far distance. "I'm so sorry, my dear friend," he whispered hoarsely. "You know I would give my own life to see you free again."

            Snape realized with a sudden sense of understanding that Salazar was not addressing the woman in front of him, but the spirit of Helga Hufflepuff, locked away somewhere in a pendant. With her last descendant dieing before them, she would likely stay there for eternity now. He felt a tug of sympathy for the old Founder.

            "Thank you, Severus," he said softly. "She was a good, kind woman who never showed me anything but great warmth and friendship. She, more than any of us, deserved to be set free. Fate, I'm afraid, can have a malicious sense of irony."

            Snape felt as though he should say something, or at least, think something. He was about to offer a generic comforting thought he had once read in a book recommended to him by Dumbledore entitled, 'How to be Nice to the People You Work With', when he heard a soft rustling behind him. Salazar evidently heard it too for Snape felt his body turn towards the sound. 

The immediate emotional change which came over Slytherin at the sight of the woman across from him left Snape somewhat startled. All trace of despair vanished from his mind and was instantly replaced by a warm sensation in the pit of his stomach. Or was it lower?

Slytherin slid off his chair and, in one fluid movement, glided over to the foot of the woman's bed. She looked up at him expectantly. Snape recognized her as the first woman who had been brought in the previous night. The Ravenclaw descendent, no doubt. Her burns had also been healed during the night. My god, she's beautiful, Snape thought and he heard Salazar internally purr with agreement.

"How is she?" the woman asked hesitantly, letting her eyes roam over to the woman across from her.

Slytherin sat himself on the side of her bed, a move much more intimate than the one he had used with the Hufflepuff woman, Snape noted with interest. "She's not well, I'm afraid, my dear." Snape was momentarily startled by the sound of his own voice. He didn't know it could do that. The words had sounded low and silky, like a physical manifestation of implicit sexuality. He found himself watching the exchange with interest.

The woman looked down and sighed, her eyes bright. "I didn't know her, but I know what she probably went through." A single tear rolled down her cheek and Salazar was on her like a snake on a field mouse. He slid closer to her and gently grasped her hand. He reached up and gently smoothed the tear away from her pale cheek. "It's alright, my dear," he purred. "She doesn't appear to be in pain." He smiled warmly at her, another move which made Snape decidedly uncomfortable, and stroked her hand. "How are you feeling? I was here when they brought you in last night and you didn't look well. I've been very worried about you."

The woman looked up into Salazar's face and watched him for a moment. "You were here?"

He nodded and sat back a calculated inch, allowing her some thinking space. "I was a patient myself last night."

She hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Was it the same person who . . ." she trailed off as though afraid to conjure the memories.

Slytherin nodded, his eyes filled with sympathy and tenderness. "Yes. He evidently had a busy day yesterday," he said softly, looking down himself.

The woman noticed his expression and smiled reassuringly at Slytherin. "I guess we should count our blessings that we're still alive," she said softly.

Salazar lifted his head and returned the smile bravely, looking her right in the eye. He leaned back towards her, reclaiming the previously relinquished inch, and grasped her hand in his, shaking it gently. "Severus Snape."

The woman nodded and her smile seemed to relax, "Helena Ravenclaw."

"Helena," Salazar said and Snape had to marvel again. How did he make that name sound like it was dripping in honey? "That's a lovely name."

Helena Ravenclaw blushed and looked down.

Snape felt himself catch an internal breath. The only time he made women blush was when he insulted them. He couldn't help noting how pretty she looked with her cheeks pink and her mouth turned up in an embarrassed smile. She seemed unable to make eye contact with him. Very endearing. When she finally did peek up at him and mutter, "Thank you,"  Snape felt something stir deep inside him. With a shuddering mental jolt, Snape forced the new and uninvited sensation back down into the depths. He suddenly wished fervently that he could snap a vicious and demeaning remark at the stupid woman. That would wipe that phoney little smirk off her face!

Salazar smiled sweetly at Helena and put her hand back down on the bed. "Well, my dear. I should let you rest. I'm sensing this day has already been too much of a strain on you." 

Helena tilted her head and smiled, "Thank you, Severus." 

Salazar rose from the bed and turned to leave. Before he could take more than a few steps away from her, however, Helena's voice stopped him and he turned back. "You can come back and visit again," she swallowed, obviously embarrassed by her own brashness, "if you'd like."

The smile that spread across Salazar's face when he looked down at her spoke of great benevolence and compassion. "It would be my very great honour, my dear," he breathed and swept from the room in a swish of black cloak.

Once outside the ward, Salazar swept to the nearest window and threw it open. "Oh, yes!' he yelled out the window. "I'm in love!"

Snape felt himself withdraw into the deepest part of himself, hoping with all his heart that no one had heard that. Had he been able, he would have put mental hands over his ears and hummed.

Not seeming to notice Snape's thoughts, Slytherin propped himself against the window sill and looked into the garden, a great, reminiscing sigh expanding his chest. "Oh, Severus. I wish you could have seen Rowena Ravenclaw. Known just as much for her great beauty as her great power, she was. Not unlike our lovely Helena in there." He closed his eyes. "God, I loved that woman. She was the greatest passion of my life." He opened them again and sighed. "And the greatest heart break. I gave her my heart on a silver platter and she returned it to me in a mince pie." He shook his head and stood up with a flourish. "What a woman she was, Severus! Kept me on my toes, that one!" he declared happily. "Never met a woman who could get me out of my trousers faster!"

Snape moaned internally, wishing he could hide somewhere.

Salazar laughed, "Don't be such a prude, my dear boy. Don't think I didn't catch that little heart flutter back there when you gazed down upon our fair Ms. Ravenclaw. Well, right before that rather sad display of low self-esteem kicked in, of course."

Snape's mind was brought to abrupt alertness, indignation flowing through him. *I do not suffer from low self-esteem!* he raged internally. *Just because some silly girl . . . because some inane young thing thinks she can* . . . Snape stopped. What had she done to warrant his wrath exactly? Snape felt a sudden desperate desire to stalk to his dungeon office, lock and ward the door behind him, and pour himself into one of his many on-going potions experiments.

Slytherin shook his head and sighed. "I guess that's your answer for everything, isn't it, my son? If it scares you, lash out at it and crush it before it can hurt you."

Snape writhed internally with resentful fury. *How dare you ordain to judge . . .*. Snape stopped short as it suddenly occurred to him that he was formulating full-sentence thoughts again.

Salazar smiled as he turned and headed back down the hallway, "Of course you are, my boy. I didn't intend to keep you silent forever. Believe it or not, I am genuinely interested in what you have to say." He waved a dismissive hand in the air, "Besides, it's not that easy to interpret abstract thoughts and feelings. A bit of a chore, actually. Easier to just have you say what you're thinking." He stopped abruptly beside a closed window and looked directly at his own reflection in the glass. "Just remember though, my boy. I have the power to shut you up whenever I wish, so do show me the proper respect." 

Recognizing the threat for what it was, Snape immediately forced himself to go to the composed place he kept deep within himself. He had his internal voice back. Best not to mess with that at the moment. Bide time. Watch and wait for a sign of weakness. That was, after all, what Severus Snape did best.

A/N:  I will be posting at least one new chapter every week until the story is finished. I feel authors really should finish a story even if only one other person is reading it. So, please feel free to review! Your feedback is greatly appreciated!


	5. Dominatio and other Little Games

**Chapter 5 –  Dominatio and Other Little Games**

Snape wasn't surprised that Salazar decided to skip breakfast in the Great Hall. Dumbledore would undoubtedly be present and he was obviously unwilling to test his acting abilities against the formidable Headmaster just yet. Instead, he took a walk down the main corridors of the castle, in the process neglecting to tell Snape where he was taking them.

Much to Snape's disappointment, Slytherin seemed to be taking more care in his external performance. He stalked down the school's passages, the signature black robes billowing behind him, scowling tightly. For the first time since teaching at Hogwarts, Snape was genuinely annoyed that most of the student body was racing past him without making eye contact. *Fools!* he spat internally. Did they ever do _anything_ he wanted them to? He was beginning to suspect that he could be striding amongst them with a shrieking hippogriff attached to his back and that no one would even glance up.

Slytherin smirked at his descendant's frustration, but said nothing. 

It was not until they were half way across the castle that Snape finally figured out where they were going. When the entrance to Dumbledore's office appeared at the end of a long hallway, he felt a pang of alarm and thought, *he's after the Founder's Pendant Box!* 

Stopping before the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office, Slytherin pulled his chin up and announced, "Chocolate Frogs," confidently. 

Nothing happened.

Internally, Snape felt Slytherin flinch with confusion. Dumbledore had changed his password without telling his Potions Master, an occurrence without precedent. Another wave of hope swept over Snape. Dumbledore must suspect something, he thought.

In response, a profound anger that Snape knew was not his own, drove it's way up through Slytherin's consciousness and escaped through his mouth as a hiss of fury. "Damn him!" he seethed and swept around on the spot as though looking for the misplaced password on the floor. 

"Is everything alright, Professor Snape?" A curious voice enquired behind him and Slytherin whirled around to meet the voice's owner. Harry Potter. Salazar seemed to regain control of his anger and straightened, his eyes narrowing menacingly. 

"What are you doing here, Potter? Shouldn't you be in class?" Slytherin said quietly, his tone even and menacing.

Obviously quite accustomed to his Professor's tone, Harry merely shrugged. "Not on Sunday, Professor."

Snape's heart leapt. Despite the fact that Harry was now officially an adult of eighteen and in the second year of his Wizarding University Degree, he was still the last person Snape would have wanted to come to his aid. The boy simply never paid attention, not even when the bleeding obvious was waggled right under his stupid nose. *Come on, Potter, you dim-wit! Look at my hair!* he thought vehemently.

As if on cue, Harry looked up at Snape's hair, clean and groomed, and raised an eyebrow. "Date tonight, Professor?" he smiled.

Never, in all the years since Snape had met and endured the company of Harry Potter, had he wanted to slap him as much as he did at that very moment.

Slytherin, however, kept his temper and watched Harry evenly, his face revealing nothing of the inner rage Snape could feel coursing through his ancestor's mind. "What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked quietly, his eyes never leaving Harry's face.

"Professor Dumbledore sent me to get something for him from his office," Harry replied and turned to the gargoyle. 

*No, you stupid boy!* Snape screamed internally just as Slytherin smirked and replied, "Very well. Get on with it then," to Harry.

"Mars Bar," Harry said simply and stood back as the gargoyle moved aside to reveal the moving spiral staircase. He was about to step on when he realized that his Professor was still standing behind him. "Were you going in too, Professor?"

With a smile flickering briefly across his lips, Slytherin nodded and followed Harry onto the staircase, his eyes burning with triumph.

Snape wondered about Helena Ravenclaw as she slept peacefully before him. What did Slytherin have planned for her exactly? He felt the Founder's Pendant Box sitting on his knees, his hands resting gently on its carved top, and wondered again why Salazar had bothered grabbing it. Not that it had been a difficult thing to do with that stupid Potter only too happy to help. The boy had not even questioned why his Potions Professor had grabbed the box from Dumbledore's desk and hurried from the room with it. 

Helena stirred and opened her eyes. She started when she saw someone sitting beside her and sat up abruptly. She immediately relaxed, however, when she recognized him, a smile playing across her face. "Oh," she breathed, brushing some stray hair out of her eyes, "it's you. Hello again." She smiled shyly and looked down at her hands.

Slytherin leaned forward and smiled smoothly at her, "Hello, Helena. I thought I'd take you up on your offer and come back to see you."

Helena laughed, a sound clear and pure to Snape's ears, and leaned back against the pillows. "Well, I'm glad you came, though I have to admit that I wasn't expecting you to come back in half an hour!"

Salazar smiled again and leaned back. "Well, I couldn't bear the thought of you alone in here, so I thought I would come back up and show you a magic trick."

Helena's eyes opened wide and she tiled her head to one side, "Magic trick? I don't think I've seen one of those since I was a little girl. This should be interesting. Are you a good magician?" she asked.

Slytherin's eyes glanced up at her, shining with wickedness, "Oh, one of the best, my dear."

It was then that Snape first realized that Helena Ravenclaw was a Muggle. It had never occurred to him that the last descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw would be anything but magical. Considering that a thousand years had passed since she had lived though, Snape reasoned, it was quite likely she could be.

Slytherin, meanwhile, had opened the Founder's Box and pulled out a long silver chain. A pendant swung freely from the end of it. It was the first time Snape had seen it since his ordeal in the woods next to the Quidditch World Cup. The pendant was, naturally, a coiled silver snake with an emerald eye. He allowed it to swing slowly in front of him as Helena watched. "This is my personal pendant. I designed it, you know, and even supervised as it was being forged." He looked back up at Helena. "Now I'd like you to search the box and see if there's anything else in there." Salazar handed the heavy box to her and she took it, still smiling at the thought of being entertained in her hospital bed. 

Helena looked in every corner of the velvet interior, even pressing along the edges to make certain that nothing was hidden beneath it, and then returned it to Slytherin. "Empty," she announced, adjusting herself slightly to watch in more comfort.

Salazar took the box from her outstretched hands and placed it back on his knees, open towards Helena. With a little tilt, he allowed the lid to fall shut with a small bang and smiled back up at Helena. "Now, watch closely, my dear," he said.

Slytherin looked back down at the box, took the snake pendant in his hand and ran it along the wooden top. As he did so, he muttered an incantation that Snape did not recognize. Once finished, Slytherin looked back up at Helena, the smile fading from his face. "Now, open it, my dear," he said softly, his eyes growing hungry.

Helena reached over and tilted back the lid. A bright smile crossed her face and she looked up at Salazar. "Wow! How did you do that, Severus?" she asked brightly.

*Do what?* Snape thought desperately, wishing Salazar would turn the box so he could see what was inside. As if granting him his wish, Slytherin turned the box on his lap so it opened towards him, and looked down. Inside lay another pendant, this one of a bronze-coloured eagle with a sapphire eye. Snape knew instantly that he was looking at the Pendant of Ravenclaw. He felt his stomach turn as he realized what Slytherin intended to do and writhed helplessly inside his own body. He had to warn the girl!

Slytherin seemed content to ignore Snape and reached into the box to remove the necklace. Careful not to touch the pendant, he lifted it gently from the box by it's bronze chain and allowed it to swing in the air before him. "Lovely, isn't it, my dear?" he breathed, his eyes never leaving the eagle.

Snape's mind reeled. What could he do to prevent what was coming? He was helpless inside his own body. As he watched Helena Ravenclaw observe the swinging pendant in front of her, the only comforting thought he could muster was that Rowena Ravenclaw herself might be able to subdue Slytherin once she was released into her descendant's body.

Salazar chuckled and looked away from the pendant. "Do you know what a _Dominatio curse is, my dear?" he asked Helena. _

She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "You mean curse, as in swear word?" she asked innocently.

Chuckling, Slytherin shook his head and smiled at the young woman in front of him. "No, not exactly. I ask merely because a good friend of mine once asked me what I would do if were confronted by someone very powerful who wanted to subdue me."

Snape felt his insides clench. Had he now put both Helena and Rowena in danger?

"I honestly think he believes that I've never considered such a thing before, but I assured him I had." Helena looked confused by the sudden turn in their conversation and nodded uncertainly.

Snape felt himself shiver internally. Of course. The _Dominatio curse. He had not heard the word since his school days. If he remembered correctly, it allowed the person performing the curse to control the victim completely. Snape knew it's origins were ancient and that the knowledge of how to cast it had been lost for centuries. From what historians had been able to gather, however, it had likely been the precursor to the _Imperius___ curse, but was significantly more powerful. The effects, so it was rumoured, never wore off and the victim was a virtual slave forever. _

It seemed clear to Snape that Slytherin intended to use it on Ravenclaw before she could fully gain control of her descendant's body. If the powers of the Founders had not been exaggerated over the centuries, Snape suspected that Slytherin likely had only a few seconds where Ravenclaw would be weak enough to be susceptible to the curse. 

"You can have this if you want, my dear," Salazar said to Helena, holding the pendant out for her. 

She smiled at the man across from her and titled her head to one side, uncertainly. "Are you sure?" she asked him.

Slytherin leaned a little closer to her, his eyes betraying his growing internal hunger, "Of course, I'm sure, child. Take it!"

Not seeming to notice his growing impatience, Helena leaned over towards Slytherin and took the pendant in her hand.

*No!* Snape screamed internally as a bright blue light suddenly burst through Helena's clenched fingers. Her eyes widened in surprise and she fell back onto the bed. She gasped once, the light now fading, and closed her eyes.

Salazar sprang to his feet and hovered over Helena, his hand outstretched. He licked his lips with anticipation and shuffled his feet as though looking for better leverage.

"Well, Severus, seems this is it. My Rowena is coming back to me," he smiled as he spoke, his eyes never leaving Helena's face. "Only this time, things are going to be a little bit different."

Snape felt himself cringe with disgust. He, himself, had been the victim of _Imperius_ many times and loathed the thought of this young woman spending her life as a victim to such a curse. Living at the whim of another person. At the whim of Salazar Slytherin. The irony that they were both now in the same boat was not lost to him.

"Now, Severus," Salazar said, "do you really think so little of me? I have no intention of controlling her in that way. Provided she does as I tell her, she is free to do as she pleases."

Helena stirred and moaned softly. As her eyes fluttered open, Salazar brought his hand up in front of him and opened his mouth to speak. 

Snape took a sharp internal breath, feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down on him. He wished, like so many times since first becoming a spy for Dumbledore, that he could look away from what he was being forced to witness. As usual, however, fate seemed determined to make Severus Snape watch.

A/N:  I will be posting at least one new chapter every week until the story is finished. I feel authors really should finish a story even if only one other person is reading it. So, please feel free to review! Your feedback is greatly appreciated!


	6. And Then There Were Three

**Chapter 6 – And Then There Were Three**

Slytherin swept his hand towards Helena, his eyes flashing with hunger, and opened his mouth to speak, "_Domin_..." 

A fraction of a second before the word could leave his mouth, however, Snape heard another voice resound across the hospital wing. "_Silencio!_" it screamed in earnest.

Slytherin's voice caught in his throat and his hand instinctively flew to his neck as he whirled to face the now-familiar voice behind him. Harry stood several feet away, his wand pointed at his Potions Professor. Slytherin waved his hand over his throat furiously and strode towards his nemesis, eyes blazing.

"Not quite so easy to silence a Founder, boy!" he raged as Harry instinctively backed up, his eyes widening in fright. Salazar raised his hand before him and opened his mouth to speak once again.

"One more word and I'll curse you into the next life, Salazar!" a strong female voice snarled behind his back. Again, the curse on his tongue remained unspoken and Slytherin turned abruptly to face the woman behind him.

Ravenclaw had risen from the bed and now stood directly behind Slytherin, tall and regal, even in hospital robes. Her hand was raised before her and she looked rigid with fury. 

Slytherin's demeanour, however, changed completely in the blink of an eye. The fury vanished instantly from his eyes and was replaced by a smooth, seductive gaze and serpentine grin. "Rowena, my dear," he purred, his hand lowering, "I was merely . . ."

"About to curse Harry to death, I would guess," said the gentle voice of Dumbledore as he stepped around the side of a privacy screen.

Slytherin spun to meet the new intruder and stopped dead at the sight of the Headmaster, the grin vanishing from his face. For a moment, no one spoke and the tension rose markedly. Quite suddenly, however, Slytherin lowered his chin to his chest and began to laugh slowly. By the time it had reached its crescendo, Salazar's head was thrown back and his laugh echoed throughout the entire hospital wing.

Harry glanced curiously at Dumbledore who merely regarded the Founder with patient interest. When Slytherin had finally gained control of himself, he turned to Rowena and shook his head. "Always one step ahead of me, my dear. Nothing has changed in a thousand years!" He turned to Harry and Dumbledore. "This was a trap I take it, my dear Headmaster? A trick to get me to expose the other Founder's Pendants?"

Dumbledore did not respond, but the twinkle in his eye spoke volumes.

Snape felt a wave of relief sweep over him. Of course Dumbledore would have seen this coming. Why had he doubted? There was no way he would have knowingly allowed Salazar Slytherin to freely roam Hogwarts, even with Snape's assurances that he had him under control. 

            "But I am being rude to our newest arrival," Dumbledore was saying as he gave a little bow to the tall woman behind Slytherin. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Rowena Ravenclaw," he said, smiling.

            Rowena tossed her long mane of hair back out of her face and nodded at Dumbledore, uncertainty playing across her lovely face. "Thank you. I must admit, however, that I am at quite a loss as to what has happened here." She looked around the room, letting her eyes fall briefly upon all of the occupants in turn. "Of course, I can sense that Salazar is inhabiting this body here," she said, waving vaguely at Snape. Slytherin bowed dramatically in response, allowing Snape's robes to swish regally as he swept his arm in front of him. Rowena did not look impressed with the theatrical civility and turned back to Dumbledore, "And I am sensing that you are in charge here."

            Dumbledore smiled gently and nodded, "I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts, yes. And this," he lifted a hand towards Harry, "is Harry Potter, one of our students."

            Rowena smiled at him, "And the young man who saved my life."

            Slytherin rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Oh, for heaven's sake Rowena. Must you always be so dramatic? I wasn't trying to kill you!"

            Rowena rounded on Slytherin, her eyes blazing a furious sapphire blue, "Oh, yes, you're quite right, Salazar! Forgive me! You merely intended to turn me into your personal love slave! I really must learn to control my unfortunate tendency towards exaggeration!"

            Dumbledore and Harry exchanged a significant look and the older man finally stepped forward. "I am sorry to interrupt this reunion, but I am afraid that circumstances demand that we discuss the issue for which we have all gathered," he said, his face grave.

            "Issue?" Slytherin asked impatiently. "What issue?"

            Dumbledore lowered his head slightly and regarded them sadly over his half-moon glasses. "The issue of Helga Hufflepuff."

            Slytherin was suddenly taken aback and seemed unable to immediately find words. Rowena's eyes widened and she stepped forward, "Wh . . . what's happened to her?" she whispered as though frightened of the answer.

            "Her last descendent is dying, Rowena," Salazar said softly as he turned to Ravenclaw. "There is no other."

            The words seemed to take a few seconds to sink in as Rowena looked at Slytherin. "Bu . . . but, Salazar, that means . . . that means that she'll . . ." 

            "be forever trapped within her Pendant, yes," Dumbledore said quietly.

            Rowena's eyes welled momentarily and she looked up at Dumbledore, "Where . . ." she asked, her whisper barely audible.

            Dumbledore pointed sadly to the woman lying silently in the bed across from them, her face pallid. "I'm afraid we do not even know her descendant's name," he said quietly.

Rowena hesitantly made her way to the side of the woman's bed and sat down beside her, taking her hand in hers. She seemed too overwhelmed to speak and shook her head disbelievingly.

            Salazar walked quietly to the other side of the bed and looked down, his face unreadable. Only Snape, forced to experience the man's feelings, knew the deep anguish he suddenly felt. All other matters seemed temporarily forgotten.

            Dumbledore moved to stand at the foot of the woman's bed, Harry close behind him. "I believe it is time for a decision to be made."

            Both Rowena and Salazar looked over to the old Headmaster. "Decision?" Slytherin asked hoarsely.

            "A grave and serious one, I'm afraid. One which I believe you must all be present to make. Harry," he said and turned to the student standing nervously behind him, "are you ready?"

            Harry took in a deep breath and nodded, pulling his chin up bravely. "As long as he promises to give my body back when everything's done."

            Dumbledore smiled, "I think that is a given, Harry."

            Snape couldn't help thinking that Harry was exactly the same after the spirit of Godric Gryffindor had been released into him as he had been before. He hadn't been surprised to learn that his least favourite student was a descendant as it seemed to Snape that Potter positively oozed Gryffindor from every horrendous pore. *The brat's probably loving every minute of this*, Snape thought bitterly. Harry and Godric, chums forever! Snape felt his insides writhe and he actually felt ill.

            "I agree completely, my boy," Slytherin muttered as he perched himself on a window sill across the hospital wing from the others. "Enough to make one lose one's breakfast. Gods! He even looks like Godric. How revolting!"

            Slytherin had watched from his safe distance as Rowena had opened the Pendant Box one more time to reveal the Pendant of Gryffindor, a roaring golden lion with a sparkling ruby eye. Being somewhat younger than the others who had been possessed, Harry had hardly even flinched when the spirit of Gryffindor had been released into him. Snape had been pleased when Salazar had rolled his eyes as it had saved him the frustration of wanting to roll them himself but not being physically able to.

            Slytherin and Gryffindor had exchanged a few brief pleasantries before the younger man had retreated to the bedside of the Hufflepuff descendant. Salazar supposed the brief truce between the two of them would come to an abrupt halt once Rowena told Godric what he'd tried to do to her when she first woke up.

            With all three Founders now released and up-to-date on their current situation, Dumbledore beckoned them all to him. They did as they were instructed, though Snape could feel Slytherin seethe at being told what to do by the Headmaster.

            Once gathered around the foot of the Hufflepuff descendant's bed, Dumbledore looked down at the prone figure before them. He sighed deeply and folded his hands in front of him. "It seems to me that two choices lay before you, my friends," he said sadly. "The spirit of Helga Hufflepuff can either remain entombed forever in her pendant, or it can be freed into her last descendant."

            A tear travelled slowly down Gryffindor's face as he looked down at the woman in front of him, "Where she will die," he whispered softly.

            "Where she will be set free, Godric," Rowena said tenderly, gripping the man's arm supportively.

            The younger man nodded slowly, tears now streaming freely down his face. He looked over at Slytherin and Snape was momentarily shocked at the depth of the pain in the man's eyes. Salazar nodded mutely at Gryffindor. Though outwardly Snape knew that Slytherin looked composed, he understood that the man had not voiced his opinion because he would simply have lost control if he had tried to speak. 

            Godric looked over at Dumbledore and nodded to him, tears still streaming unchecked down his face.

            Dumbledore returned the nod sadly and handed him the Pendant Box. 

            With shaking hands, Gryffindor moved his own pendant across the top and muttered an incantation. He looked up at Rowena and nodded silently. Taking a steadying breath, she opened the box and put her hand inside. Gently, as though handling something made of the most delicate crystal, she lifted out the chain that supported the Pendant of Hufflepuff. A black badger looked back at them through an amber eye, its face kindly and gentle. 

At the sight of it, Rowena's resolve broke and she wept openly, the hand holding the pendant shaking conspicuously. 

Returning the box to Dumbledore, Godric quickly helped Rowena over to the bed and they sat down together on the side of it. Salazar silently sat on the other side of the prone figure, trying desperately to remain composed.

            Trying to control her sobs, Rowena shakily opened the woman's hand and placed the pendant inside. With a nod to her companions, they all reached over together and closed the fingers around it. A bright yellow light shot through all of their fingers and they collectively looked down at the woman before them.

            With a gasp, the woman's eyes flew open, and she stared up at them.

            All three suddenly broke into smiles and beamed down at her, shocked and relieved. "Helga!" Rowena said hoarsely. 

            Helga Hufflepuff looked into Rowena's eyes, kindness and warmth seeming to shine from within her. Slowly, she looked over at Godric and finally at Salazar. Slowly, she looked back up at the ceiling above her and a gentle smile lit her face. "My dear friends," she whispered softly. "My dear friends."

            And then her eyes fluttered closed, the smile faded from her lips and the light of life fled from her kindly face.

            There was silence in the hospital wing, as though the world was holding its breath. The three sat staring at their friend in shocked disbelief. As though unable to process what their own eyes were telling them, they all looked at one another, hoping for clarity. 

            Snape felt something break deep within, like a dam bursting, and he knew Salazar's resolve was lost. Clarity had been achieved, it seemed, and he knew that Helga Hufflepuff had left this world. 

            The sobs that suddenly broke the silence seemed wrenched from the deepest parts of their souls. The three remaining Founders somehow managed to find one another's hands as their heads bent in grief, their shoulders heaving with their unrestrained cries.

           And then there were three. 

A/N:  I will be posting at least one new chapter every week until the story is finished. I feel authors really should finish a story even if only one other person is reading it. So, please feel free to review! I'm very grateful for the feedback I've received so far and I thank everyone who's submitted reviews!!!!!!!


	7. Bound to Happen

**Chapter 7 – Bound to Happen**

Snape sighed internally as Slytherin took a sip of brandy from his snifter and sat back into the leather seat next to the fireplace, involuntarily flinching in pain as he did so. He was glad that at least he and Salazar shared a similar taste in alcohol for he didn't think the strongest potion known to wizard kind would have done as well to calm his nerves and numb his body.

Slytherin was physically exhausted, Snape could feel, and was aware that his own body was battered and bruised. He wished the man would just give in and go to bed so he could forget everything that had happened that day. Though he had been on the receiving end of cruel curses more times than he cared to admit, Snape could not remember the last time he had actually been involved in a common Muggle brawl. His jaw ached and one eye was almost entirely swollen shut. He hadn't seen Potter coming and neither, apparently, had Slytherin.

The grief over the loss of their dearest friend had not lasted long. While Slytherin had wandered over to the far end of the hospital wing to regain his control, Rowena had evidently taken the time to fill Godric in on his little _Dominatio_ attempt. Gryffindor had flown across the room, fists raised, and sent the older man flying before he had even opened his mouth to comment.

Despite the fact that Snape had known on an intellectual level that it was Godric Gryffindor assaulting Salazar Slytherin, it had still galled him no end to see the face of Harry Potter squinting up at him before feeling his head knocked back against the wall. He would never have guessed the scrawny little brat could pack such a wallop. The fist fight and general fracas that ensued had quickly moved out into the hallway outside the hospital wing, travelled down several flights of stairs and finally ended somewhere near the main dining hall, just in time for lunch.

Snape was too horrified to even think how many students had witnessed Professor Severus Snape scrapping it out throughout Hogwarts with Harry Potter. He was certain, however, that as he was being flung down a set of marble stairs he had heard at least one student exclaim, "Well, I mean, it really was _bound_ to happen some day, wasn't it?" to a gawking peer. 

It had taken most of the teachers at the Head Table to break up the fight, not an easy task with several hundred screaming children crowded around the Entrance Hall, all chanting some variation on the theme of, "Bloody him up, Harry! Whack the greasy git!"

Snape had made certain to take mental note of all the children egging Potter on as he intended to make them pay generously and in quite horrific ways for the rest of the their academic careers at Hogwarts. He was a patient man.

More than anything else, however, Snape didn't know if he would ever manage to live down Minerva McGonagall. After the teachers had broken up the fight, his fellow professor had grabbed Potter by the ear and hauled him up the main staircase, glaring at Snape to follow. The entire trip to the Headmaster's office had consisted of a non-stop tirade. "Never, in all my days, have I seen such a display!" she had raved. "What were you two thinking? The entire school just witnessed a _teacher_ Muggle fighting with a student! I don't even know where to put myself, I am so shocked! Founders indeed! Spoiled children, more like!" And on it had gone. 

While he certainly respected McGonagall, the rivalry between their two houses assured that he would be reminded of this event for the rest of his days at Hogwarts, despite the fact that she knew it wasn't actually Snape's fault. The only bit of satisfaction he had managed to derive from the situation came from the fact that Minerva had grabbed Gryffindor by the ear and marched him down the hallway, apparently too flustered to remember that she was grabbing the ear of one of the Founders of Hogwarts. Godric seemed too gallant to point this out to her, however; a fact that made Snape snicker even harder to himself. Stupid git, he'd thought.

The meeting with Dumbledore had not gone much better. After sending Minerva away, he had placed his hand on top of the Founder's Pendant Box, which sat reproachfully upon his desk, and regarded them both with displeasure. He was very disappointed, he had advised them solemnly, drumming his fingers on the ornate lid. As two of the Founders of the school, the two of them, more than anyone else, should have been aware of the dangers of fighting around students. 

Surprisingly, it had been Gryffindor who had piped up to defend their actions. He had explained that after a rather unfortunate wizard's duel a thousand years before, he and Slytherin had almost brought the entire castle down around their ears, so powerful was their magic. After that, they had agreed that if they had a problem with one another that could not be resolved with dialogue, they would keep their altercations to physical Muggle brawls.

At this Dumbledore had lifted an eyebrow and politely asked if, in fact, they had actually tried "dialoguing" about their problem before brawling.

The uncomfortable silence that had followed had pretty much answered his question. And then the 'Dumbledore Speech' had begun. Having been on the receiving end of more of them than he cared to admit, Snape had sighed and settled in for a wait. His concentration had wandered and he had only managed to catch snippets of the lecture. "The students are not supposed to know, blah, blah, blah," "Should be acting like Severus and Harry, blah, blah, blah," "Great danger if Voldemort figures out what's happened, blah, blah, blah," "It's possible to release the spirits back into the pendants, blah, blah, blah." Snape's attention had snapped back to the present at the last statement. What had Dumbledore said about being able to remove Slytherin from his body and return it to the pendant?

It had been then that something had happened that had made Snape almost weep with relief (almost). Dumbledore looked him in the eye and addressed him directly. Not Slytherin. Him. Severus Snape. The Headmaster had looked solemn and sincere when he had told Snape that it was possible to return Slytherin to his pendant but that he would have to work out the safest way of doing so and that he must hang on in the meantime. Though unable to answer, Snape had felt eternally grateful to the old Headmaster for acknowledging his presence. 

Dumbledore must have known that this announcement to his Potions Master would end the conversation, because he did not look surprised when Salazar had hissed with displeasure and swept from the room. Indeed, Slytherin had not stopped his incensed march until he had reached the safety of Snape's living quarters where he had promptly poured himself a drink and flung himself moodily into a chair to stew in his own anger. 

Which, apparently, he was continuing to do. "I wouldn't get too excited in there," Slytherin said, obviously having followed Snape's reminiscing about the evening's events. "I have no intention of returning to that pendant."

Though somewhat deflated by the words, Snape was pleased to note that Slytherin's voice had not held it's usual amount of bravado. Perhaps he knew that Dumbledore was powerful enough to carry through on his promise.

With a single swift movement, Slytherin suddenly rose from the chair and threw the brandy snifter into the fireplace. "For your sake, Severus, you better hope Dumbledore doesn't try too hard to return me. I would rather see both of us die than go back to that half-life existence!"

Snape mentally recoiled as he felt the truth of Slytherin's threat seep through him. He tried to push aside his excitement at Dumbledore's words and find a neutral place to put his thoughts so as not to provoke the old Founder further.

Seemingly satisfied, Salazar threw off his clothes and unceremoniously tossed himself into Snape's large bed. With a last mumbled curse, he quickly drifted to sleep.

Snape wasn't certain what he'd been expecting when Slytherin fell asleep. Perhaps that his own conscious mind would drift off into a sort of sleep as well? Whatever, he had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been this. For the first time in almost twelve hours, he was alone. He could feel the presence of Slytherin as merely a far off shadow with no distinct form. Somehow, he knew that in his unconscious state, Salazar was not able to read his thoughts. A thrill of excitement ran through Snape as he realized he could finally think clearly about the day's events without fear of discovery. Immediately, he began to assess his situation.

*Alright then,* he thought. *I need a plan. Dumbledore told me to hang on. Does that mean that he fears Slytherin will try to expel my personality or somehow silence me permanently? Though, if he _was_ able to do that, would he not have done so already? Unless he still needs me intact to get information from me. Perhaps as soon as I can provide no more useful information, he _will _expel my spirit permanently. So, if that's the case, is there some way that I can hamper his ability to access important information from my mind? Perhaps feed him misleading information? Or is he too closely tied into my thoughts when he's awake to not see through that? Is there something I'm missing here that can allow me to fight him reading my mind when he's awake?*

As Snape worked through the various aspects of his predicament, he absentmindedly reached up and rubbed his nose with his hand. He froze in mid rub, however, his eyes flying open in surprise. He had control of his body!

Slowly, he commanded his arm to lower back to the bed and dared to try opening his eyes. The resulting snorting and grumbling from Slytherin, made Snape withdraw immediately. He felt Salazar's personality draw closer to him for a moment before finally receding and going back into shadow.

*Alright then,* he thought. *So, I have the use of my body back when he's asleep, but I can't do much without waking him up. How can I make use of this?" 

And then it struck him. He had to find a way to communicate to Dumbledore that Salazar, as the person in actual control, would be rendered unconscious when his body was sedated. Snape wouldn't be able to use his body either, of course, since it would be physically knocked out, but at least he would not be in danger of being expelled by Slytherin while Dumbledore worked out how to return the reluctant Founder to his pendant. 

Now he just had to work out how to communicate this to Dumble...

Snape quickly silenced his thoughts as he felt Slytherin abruptly awaken and sit straight up in bed. The man's thoughts seemed fevered and anxious and Snape wondered if he had been dreaming.

Swiftly Slytherin threw back the covers of the bed and redressed quickly in his clothes from the previous day. Without a backward glance, Salazar crept from the room and out into the hallway beyond Snape's quarters, looking both ways before quietly sneaking off. 

Snape had a very bad feeling about this.

By the time Snape figured out that they were headed back towards the Headmaster's office, he had also guessed what Slytherin was likely up to. He intended to steal the Pendant of Slytherin. It made sense. It was what he would do.

"Absolutely correct, my boy," Salazar whispered as he swept quickly and noiselessly down the chilly hallway. "I can't very well be released into a non-existent pendant now, can I?"

Snape cringed internally and hoped that Dumbledore had thought ahead to this possible scenario and hidden the Founder's Pendant Box.

As usual, Slytherin snickered unkindly at his descendant's thoughts. "Not good enough I'm afraid, my boy. I don't think even Dumbledore knows that we can sense the location of our own pendants, where ever they may be. I suppose you would be somewhat disappointed if I told you the box is still on the old fool's desk?"

Despite the fact that a part of him wanted to despair at Slytherin's chiding, Snape forced himself not to travel down that path yet again. The Headmaster had proven time and time again that he was no fool and he had faith that it would prove to be the case again. 

His optimistic appraisal of the situation, however, found itself being tested once they were inside Dumbledore's empty office. Apparently the Headmaster had not only neglected to change his entry password, but had also left the pendant box right on his desk, just as Slytherin had said.

Snape steeled himself. It had to be a trap. Any moment, Dumbledore would come through the back door and regard Slytherin with a knowing raise of the eyebrow.

His confidence wavered even more, however, as Salazar opened the box and removed the silver snake from amongst the pendants and stuffed it into his pocket. Perhaps Dumbledore had replaced it with a copy? Perhaps as a trick to ensnare Slytherin?

Salazar snickered and shook his head, "Sorry, lad. It's not a fake. I can sense its inner presence. Remember, this thing still holds a feint imprint of my spirit. That can't be replicated. Not by any witch or wizard." He laughed softly to himself and closed the lid to the box. 

As he turned to leave the office, Snape felt Salazar's mind suddenly change gears and slowly begin to scheme. The Founder turned back to the pendant box and slowly lifted the lid again. With a wicked smile, he reached back inside and removed the Pendants of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, his eyes now luminous with glee. He shut the lid again, stuffed the bronze eagle and the golden lion into his pocket and fled from the office, smiling triumphantly the entire time.

Snape felt his confidence collapse as they swept out of the office door and down the deserted hallway without anything or anyone attempting to stop them. Why Dumbledore had left the pendants out and unguarded by even the simplest protective spell, he could not fathom. Was he perhaps getting old and senile after all?

Slytherin chuckled. "I have told you already, lad, that you should not put your trust in that old man. His day has passed and he is no match for the Founders. None are."

Despite his attempts to trust Dumbledore, Snape was beginning to wonder if Slytherin might not be right. These were, after all, the Great Founders. The most powerful wizards of all time. How could they possibly hope to resist them?

"You can't, my boy," Slytherin hissed with obvious pleasure. "Learn to accept and assist me and you may have a future. Resist me, and you may say farewell to your soul, Severus Snape."


	8. A Snake in the Grass

**Chapter 8 – A Snake in the Grass**

            By the time they had reached the dungeons, Snape had given up trying to figure out where Slytherin was taking them. If the Founders could sense the location of their individual pendants, then where could Salazar possibly be going with them? Obviously he couldn't hide them. To destroy them perhaps?

He felt his ancestor shake his head in frustration. "My dear boy, I thought you had more smarts than that," he said. "I said that _Dumbledore _couldn't hide them. _I _most certainly can! And no one, not even I, can destroy them as long as their owner's live. Only Helga's pendant could be destroyed now and I have no desire to do that." 

Much to Snape's surprise, Slytherin stopped in front of his own classroom and opened the door with a flourish. The Founder entered and looked around the room with interest. "Hmm. Not much different than when I taught here."

*This was Slytherin's classroom?* Snape thought in awe. All these years, he had been teaching in the very room that the Founder of his House had taught in. For some reason, it had not occurred to him before now to wonder what the man had taught in his day. Had he also been a Potions Master?

Slytherin smirked as he crossed the room towards Snape's desk. "Among other things. I taught many useful subjects. Most of them, apparently, quite illegal now."

*Ah,* Snape thought. *Dark Arts.*

Slytherin stepped behind Snape's large, black desk, which presided ominously over the classroom, and looked down at the surface, still scattered with student papers that Snape had been marking. "The four of us would select a group of students and teach them everything we thought they needed to know. We would not teach one another's students."

Snape internally nodded. Of course, he thought. That was how the four Houses had begun. As separate entities. No wonder integration had always been so difficult amongst them. The Houses were never intended to be cooperative. 

Salazar reached inside his pocket and pulled his serpentine pendant out and looked down at the desk. With one swift motion of his hand, he cleared the surface of the student papers. Gently, he grasped the pendant and ran it over the surface of the black desk, muttering another incantation that Snape did not recognize.

As Salazar stepped back, Snape's desk suddenly sank into the floor and silently disappeared into the darkness below. Snape could just faintly make out a set of stone steps descending from the edge of the opening. He could not believe that he had spent over twenty years sitting at this desk, never once suspecting that it led to some secret chamber. Immediately, Snape thought about the Chamber of Secrets and wondered if Slytherin had made two of them.

Salazar hissed with displeasure as he grabbed a torch from the wall behind him and began to make his way down the stairs. "Please don't remind me of that. One dead Mudblood and a stiff cat." He shook his head, "Disappointing. Very disappointing, indeed."

The spiral stairs twisted down into the darkness for what seemed like ages until it finally deposited them in a long, arched hallway. The workmanship of the stone walls suggested to Snape that this particular part of the castle had been constructed a very long time ago. Corbel vaulting at the end of the passageway suggested that it had likely been constructed during the Roman occupation of England. Snape found this fact interesting since they had never actually occupied Scotland, the country where Hogwarts resided. 

Snape felt something stir in the mind of Slytherin at his musings, but could not put his finger on what it was. It passed without a further inkling, however, and he let it go without comment.

The passageway seemed to wind and swerve in many different directions before breaking off into separate tunnels. Slytherin steered them through the maze without a second thought, obviously very familiar with the passages. Snape wondered if anyone else actually knew about them.

"No, dear boy," Slytherin responded. "Just me. These were my personal chambers." Snape assumed by that he did not mean his living quarters.

"Right again," Salazar smiled as he manoeuvred them through a particularly complicated set of turns and twists. "We all had our own spaces in which to work undisturbed. Their locations were not known to the others though I suspect that Rowena had some sort of tower that only appeared when she requested it. I'm certain when I was returning to the castle one evening that I saw a large copper-coloured eagle fly from a tower I'd never noticed before."

Snape's mind perked up at this. A large eagle? Were the Founders Anamagi as well?

Slytherin sniffed in irritation, "Of course we were. There's nothing witches and wizards can do today that we could not do better!" he said indignantly. He finally gave a small half-shrug, however, and said, "Mind you, we can't change anymore, since we're no longer in our own bodies."

A large wooden door appeared out of the gloom of the dimly lit passage before them and Salazar halted. He once again lifted his pendant, still clutched firmly in his hand, and held it against the door. Another muttered incantation brought a low rumbling from beneath them and the sound of a thousand locks being clicked open somewhere behind the door. With a moan, the heavy door slowly swung back into the room beyond and Slytherin strode forward confidently. As soon as his foot hit the floor of the chamber, several torches sprang to life on the walls and dimly lit the interior of the space. 

The room was somehow exactly what Snape had expected. A dark but luxurious area lay before him, decorated with lush greens and muted silvers. Overstuffed furniture competed for space with desks, bookshelves and work surfaces. One wall was devoted exclusively to the sorts of grotesque jars of pickled creatures that usually adorned Snape's own office. These, however, had been tinted to hide the contents and were mostly concealed behind soft tapestries. Snape could only imagine what sort of things Slytherin had "worked" on in this chamber.

Slytherin evidently decided against enlightening him and instead moved to the middle of the large room. He turned on the spot, taking in every detail of the space around him. "Hasn't changed a bit," he marvelled. "Not even any dust."

With a reminiscing sigh, Salazar moved to a large black desk, a practical duplicate to the one Snape himself sat behind in his classroom somewhere above them. Without ceremony or comment, Slytherin reached into his pocket, produced the Pendants of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and dumped them on the shiny black surface. When placing his own pendant on the desk, however, he used decidedly more care, turning the serpent so that its emerald eye winked up at him in the torch light. He gave a little smile at the sight of it and tuned back to the door.

Snape could not help but wonder what had been accomplished by hiding the pendants in Slytherin's personal chamber. If the Founders could sense the location of their own pendants, then would they not simply find their own way down here?

"You weren't listening as usual, my boy," Salazar chided, the smile still playing across his lips. "When we created our private chambers, we all agreed to a binding spell that would prevent us from ever finding one another's spaces. To ensure privacy. Once inside this chamber, I disappear from existence, along with everything I am carrying."

Snape felt himself sigh. This old Founder was certainly worthy of the title, "Original Slytherin". Wily did not do him justice as a descriptor. 

With another flourishing wave of his long-fingered hand, Slytherin opened the chamber door and strode through it, his chin high and determined. "Now that we are free of the meddlings of Dumbledore, we have a few things we need to do, my boy."

Snape hardly bothered to wonder what "things" Slytherin was planning on doing with his body. With the Pendant of Slytherin now effectively out of the reach of Dumbledore, he knew his time upon the Earth was nearing an end. Not that this feeling was unfamiliar to him, mind you. He had felt for many years now that his role as spy would eventually lead to his early demise, but he had never envisioned someone walking off with his body at the end of it.

Though he had spent his entire life loathing everything about it, Snape was suddenly beginning to reassess how he felt about his own body now that someone was about to relinquish him of it. Yes, his nose was pretty large, but it definitely went with the rest of the face, didn't it? And why had he not fixed his teeth a long time ago? The repairing spell was so simple and the resulting pearly whites were really quite impressive, if he did say so himself. He didn't even want to think about the hair. Just because his father had constantly referred to it as 'greasy horse hair', didn't mean it actually _was_. He wondered how many middle-aged balding men would give their left arms for his head of thick, glossy black hair. Why had he proven the old bastard right by refusing to take care of it properly? And his voice. A woman he had known once (and effectively driven off with a nasty remark) had actually described it as being what silk would sound like if it could talk. *Dammit!* he screamed internally. *I don't want to lose my body!*

Slytherin was silent and did not respond to Snape's sudden burst of frantic desperation. Instead, he leisurely negotiated his way back through the maze-like passages, humming softly to himself as he went. "To the library first, I think," he said calmly. "There's something I need to check. If I'm right, and I know I am, the day of reckoning has arrived for many."

Snape felt an alarm bell go off in his conscious. Reckoning? Reckoning for what?

Salazar clenched his fist, anger suddenly coursing through him. "Some have wronged me, Severus. Wronged me quite severely. And severely is how they will pay."

Who will pay, Snape thought desperately?

Slytherin grinned, "People very close to you, my dear boy. It is time for those responsible to be held accountable and I don't think they'll like what's coming." He shook his head fiercely, his nostrils flaring with anger. "No, I don't think they shall like it at all."

Snape swallowed unconsciously. He was not the only one in danger. He had to warn Dumbledore. But, how?

A/N:  I will be posting at least one new chapter every week until the story is finished. I continue to be very, very grateful for the feedback I've received. Reviews are definitely the reward for doing this!!!!


	9. And Then There Were Two?

**Chapter 9 – And Then There Were Two?**

Slytherin slammed another book shut and hissed with fury. It was nearing morning and several dozen books now lay scattered around his feet in the Restricted Area of the library. Snape, naturally, had been paying close attention as the Founder had searched each book diligently as if looking for certain, specific entries. Every time he had found the section he seemed to be looking for, however, several pages would be missing, cleanly separated from the spine. As the hours of night had drifted by, Snape had felt his ancestor's frustration and anger grow.

Snape had figured out early on what was missing from the various volumes, of course. All of the works Salazar had spent the night scrutinizing seemed to be the actual original records from the days of the founding of Hogwarts, all written by the Founder's own hands. While most were about the founding of the school, others concerned the four themselves. Unfortunately, it seemed that every entry involving Slytherin, whether directly or indirectly, had been carefully removed. 

A brief and panicked search of several newer books had ensued, all written by other authors much later in history, _Hogwarts: A History_, being the first_. _All seemed to include Slytherin within their pages. 

So now they sat, the silent library grey with pre-dawn light, surrounded by a first-hand history from which Slytherin had been utterly erased. With a heavy sigh, he raised his hand and quietly muttered, "_Reverto_". Immediately, all the books scattered across the cold, stone floor flew into the air and gracefully rearranged themselves on the shelves around them. He slowly rose to his feet, made his way to the window at the end of the aisles and leaned heavily against the sill. Outside, the world huddled under a soft blanket of mist, waiting for the first touch of the sun. Snape felt the old Founder's heart heavy with an emotion he could not immediately place. Guilt? Regret?

Before he could wonder on it further, however, Snape's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of voices entering the library. He recognized them immediately as belonging to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Salazar straightened and slid silently behind a tall bookcase, clearly intending to eavesdrop on his compatriots.

"Well, it's clear he's hidden them in his dam chamber. It's the only place they could be, isn't it?" Godric was saying.

Slytherin popped his head around the edge of the bookcase and Snape was suddenly rewarded with a view of the backs of the other Founders as they took seats beside one another across the room. Had it been normal school hours, it would have been impossible to hear them for the whispering students, but the room's complete silence at this hour allowed their voices to carry clearly to the Restricted Area.

"I know, Godric," Rowena said patiently, winding her index finger anxiously through her long hair.

Gryffindor seemed to notice her uneasiness and patted her arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, Rowena. We'll find them. Salazar is a complete and utter bastard, but he wouldn't endanger anyone's life," he said.

Snape felt Slytherin's fist clench and his jaw work angrily, but he managed to keep silent.

Rowena nodded again and looked down at a piece of parchment she had just unrolled in front of her. 

Godric leaned over her shoulder and studied the list of names she was reading intently. "I don't think you need to look through anymore records, Rowena," he said with authority. "Harry says that Dumbledore is the perfect choice to replace Helga. He said he has all the characteristics needed for the fourth pillar."

Rowena nodded absently, "Yes, I know that Godric. That's not what I'm looking for right now."

Snape's mind snapped to attention at the mention of Dumbledore's name. Replacement for Hufflepuff? Were they planning on making off with the Headmaster's spirit? What in the name of Merlin were these dammed Founders up to? This was becoming intolerable. He had to find a way to communicate with Dumbledore!

As Slytherin continued to devote all of his attention to eavesdropping on his comrades, a rough plan suddenly began to form in the back of Snape's mind. Perhaps there _was_ something he could try. He gently pushed the thought aside, however, intending to return to it when Slytherin was sleeping and it was safe to explore his options. He could not, however, contain a small feeling of hope that surged to the surface of his consciousness at the thought that he might actually be able to do something.

Slytherin pulled back from the bookcase. "What are you up to in there, son?" he whispered suspiciously.

Before Snape could generate an appropriate response, however, both of their attentions were returned abruptly to the pair across the room when Godric bellowed, "What?!!" at the top of his lungs.

Slytherin immediately poked his head back around the corner, anxious not to miss anything.

"Shhhhhh!" Rowena was chastising the younger man.

"Rowena, you can't be serious!" Gryffindor said, now on his feet and leaning over Ravenclaw anxiously.

Rowena sighed heavily, "Sit down, Godric, before you bring half the castle in here!" she demanded, grabbing him roughly by the arm and pulling him down into his chair.

"But, but, Rowena, you can't, you..."Gryffindor stammered, looking too shocked to formulate a coherent sentence. "You can't do this! There's no need!"

Shaking her head, Rowena rolled the parchment on the tabletop back up and turned to Godric. "The decision's made, my friend. My descendant does not want children and there's no way I'm going to try and convince her to for my own selfish reasons."

Snape felt Slytherin inhale sharply, the implication of what Ravenclaw was saying immediately obvious to him.

"With this in mind," Rowena hurried on before Gryffindor could speak again, "I would rather my spirit be released into the next world like Helga's than have it trapped inside that pendant for eternity. Those are my wishes."

Godric shook his head in disbelief. 'I can't believe what you're saying, Rowena," he whispered, running his hands through his hair in distress. He looked back up at her, his expression frantic. "Have you even asked Helena if she would? I mean, my god, if she doesn't have a child, you won't have any more descendants after she dies! That will be it! You'll be lost!"

Rowena turned in her chair and looked directly at her young friend. "Godric. Having children is a full-time, life-long commitment. You know that. You had three of your own. Helena would have to give up her career to become a parent and her work means everything to her. Everything. I cannot and will not ask that of her. I had my chance at life and I must allow her that same chance. I would not be a true ancestor if I did anything less."

Godric looked at her in stunned silence. He had obviously heard the wisdom of her words but was having trouble accepting what they would mean for her.

            Rowena sighed and put her hand gently on top of Godric's, her face kindly. "Now, I want you to listen to me, Godric. When we find our pendants, I want you to promise me that you will not let Salazar force my spirit back into it. When I leave Helena's body, I intend to join Helga. You must make me this promise, my friend." Gryffindor merely stared back at her, unable to respond. Ravenclaw raised her eyebrows, "Godric?"

            Gryffindor could manage only a small nod, his eyes filling with tears. Ravenclaw reached forward and hugged him gently, and he wrapped his arms around her desperately, the tears now spilling down his face.

Snape felt Slytherin's insides twist with molten horror. His mind seemed to be working too fast to process thoughts clearly and his breathing was coming in short, quick bursts. He reached out and leaned heavily against the nearest bookcase, his legs suddenly leaden beneath him. He looked back up in time to see Rowena give Godric a reassuring pat on the arm and leave the library. 

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "This cannot be, Severus. I will not survive this. She cannot die! Gods, I couldn't bear it!" Instinctively, Salazar grabbed for Snape's high-collared shirt and pulled it away from his throat as though trying to allow air into his lungs.

Through the sudden panic and desperation, however, Snape felt a familiar emotion surface within his esteemed ancestor. Slow scheming. The Slytherin wheels were turning again and a small smirk crawled onto his face. "Hmmm," he purred. "Yes." The smile broadened. "Of course. It's so simple. My god, I'm brilliant!"

He glanced back out at Gryffindor who now sat with his face buried in his hands, his shoulders heaving silently. Salazar shook his head. "Useless prat," he hissed in disgust. 

Silently, he slid out of the library and back into the cool hallway. "Come, my boy," he whispered to Snape. "I may need your expertise for a few moments."  

Snape sighed internally. *Oh, for the love of Merlin*, he thought. *What now?*

A/N:  I will be posting at least one new chapter every week until the story is finished. I'm thrilled that people seem to be enjoying it and I'm loving the reviews! Knowing people are reading is definitely adding fuel to the writing fire! 


	10. Seduction of the Snake this chapter rate...

A/N:   Hello! I just wanted to let the readers of this story know that I have decided to rate this particular chapter **R** (for sexual content). Since this is the only chapter in the entire story that is going to be like this, I didn't really want to rate the whole thing as Restricted. For anyone who decides not to read it, I'll begin the next chapter with a little PG13 update of events! ****

**Chapter 10 – Seduction of the Snake (this chapter is rated Restricted)**

By the time Salazar had finished his potions and sat himself down at Snape's desk to admire his handiwork, he was feeling positively delighted with himself. Snape, by contrast, was at his lowest point yet since releasing his problematic ancestor from his silver prison. He had had a pretty good idea of what Slytherin was planning as they had stalked down to his dungeon work room, but it had not made it any easier to accept when he'd ultimately been proven right. Again.

Slytherin sighed with satisfaction and ran one of Snape's long, elegant fingers down one of two vials now sitting before him. The light green liquid inside the first one sparkled merrily as it caught the torchlight. "So, I guess we should let this one work for a few minutes before giving her the second one, don't you think?" he said conversationally as he glanced at the light purple liquid inside the second vile.

*Don't include me in this, Salazar,* Snape hissed.

Slytherin raised an eyebrow in surprise. "My. You're feeling awfully brave in there, aren't you, my boy?"

*You can do whatever you want to me,* Snape spat, suddenly brazen with indignant anger, *but I will not be associated in way with sexual assault."

Slytherin visibly flinched. "Ouch! Easy there, my boy!" he said with a chuckle. "What I'm doing, I'm doing for Rowena's own good. Her stubborn sense of 'rightness' is going to land her in more hot water than simple pregnancy and lust potions ever will, I can assure you of that, son!"

While recognizing that his own past dictated that he really had no right to be bandying it about, Snape felt his stomach churn with Righteous Indignation. He liked Ravenclaw. There was something rather impertinent and defiant about her character that appealed to him. Considering how little he knew her, however, he thought it quite likely that it was actually Slytherin's own impression of her he was experiencing, but that did not dissuade him from wanting to at least try and prevent what he knew was coming.

*Salazar,* he tried to reason, *you have no right to do this. This decision is hers alone to make and she has made it with what certainly seems to me to be due consideration and thought.*

Slytherin was silent for a moment as he continued to look at the vials before him. "Have you ever been in love, Severus?" he finally asked quietly.

There was another awkward silence and Slytherin finally nodded knowingly. "I thought not," he said. "If you had been, you'd know that you do not sit idly by and let the person you love die unnecessarily."

*Salazar,* Snape said carefully, aware that he was now on very shaky ground, *Rowena Ravenclaw did die. Almost a thousand years ago. The woman you are planning on seducing is not her. It is _Helena_ Ravenclaw. A woman with her own life and desires.*  

The rage that suddenly coursed through Slytherin sent Snape scurrying for mental cover. "Enough!" he bellowed with such force the very walls of the dungeon shook, dislodging dust from the high ceiling above them. He leaned forward onto the desk, visibly trying to control his anger. He pulled in a few deep breaths and finally stood straight again, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

"Now, Severus, you know that I appreciate your input," he said patiently, "but I must insist, on this occasion, that you not interfere with what I must do. I don't want to silence you again, but I will, so let's maybe just have a little quiet time, shall we?"

With an obvious effort, Slytherin smiled merrily and grabbed the two vials from the desktop. He stuffed them in his pocket and turned cheerfully to the classroom door. "Now, let's go write a note telling your students that you've cancelled classes for the day. I think we should go fix up your rooms a bit before our company arrives this evening. We want to make a good impression!"

Knowing that his efforts to reason with the old Founder would likely be useless, Snape was forced to hope that Rowena Ravenclaw would not actually be stupid enough to accept an invitation to visit Slytherin's room alone.

That evening, Snape watched as Rowena Ravenclaw wandered around his apartments after having accepted an invitation to visit Slytherin's room alone. She would occasionally stop to examine something she found of particular interest with her eyes, but otherwise touched nothing.

"These quarters are not unlike the ones you had in our day, Salazar," she said. "You must share quite a bit in common with your descendant."

Slytherin smiled and moved over to stand in front of the small table near the fireplace that Snape used to house his collection of brandy bottles. "To some degree, yes," he answered smoothly as he poured a snifter of the dark brown liquid. "But I'd have to say we definitely disagree on a few things." As he spoke, Salazar reached into his pocket and pulled out the green-liquid vile, emptying it covertly into the glass. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Rowena was still wandering the room with her back turned to him and the Founder grinned wickedly.

"Really?" she was saying. "I thought Slytherins never disagreed with one another."

Salazar snorted as he moved over to her and handed her the glass casually, not drawing attention to it. "I assume you're being sarcastic," he smiled smoothly.

Snape marvelled once again at how simple it had been for Slytherin to convince Ravenclaw to join him for a nightcap. A well-planned "accidental" meeting in the hall after breakfast had resulted in a heated discussion about the missing pendants, allowing Salazar the perfect opportunity to defensively inform her that, fine, if she was so eager to discuss their whereabouts, she could just come and see him that evening in his quarters and they could chat about it like adults. That is, if she was capable of acting like an adult. Apparently eager to prove her maturity, she had hotly agreed to the meeting and stalked away from Slytherin, her pretty nose in the air.

Snape had hoped she was too smart to fall for Slytherin's obvious seduction attempts, but apparently that had been too much to wish for. And she had been the Founder of the "Smart House", he had marvelled with disgust.

So now he was forced to watch and wait. Helpless as usual. He sighed heavily as he watched the stupid woman drink back the brandy laced with the potion designed to ensure that a pregnancy would result from any 'relations' she had in the next few hours. The entire glass was drained in one go.

"Now, about my pendant," Rowena said, handing back her empty glass to Slytherin. 

He accepted it with a raised eyebrow. "I take it you're descendant likes brandy?" he asked, casually returning to the table to refill her glass.

"No," was her only reply as she once again conveniently turned her back on him.

Snape almost moaned with annoyance at how easy she was making this for Slytherin. The Founder was already pouring the lust potion into the glass by the time he spoke again. "Your pendant," he said, turning back to her with her new drink. "It's safe, you know."

Rowena scoffed, "Nothing is safe with you, Salazar," she said, taking the proffered drink from his hand.

*That's right!* Snape yelled internally. *Including you, you stupid woman!*

Slytherin suddenly lifted his eyebrow and sighed. "I wonder if you'd excuse me for a moment, Rowena?" he said, moving away from her.

Snape could feel his ancestor's annoyance as he stalked into the adjoining bedroom. "I told you to keep your mouth shut, Severus!" he hissed under his breath. "You evidently didn't think that I was being..."

Salazar's warning was cut short, however, as two slender hands suddenly appeared around his waist. Snape felt a warm body press up behind him and a small gasp escaped his lips. Slytherin's gasp, of course, but appropriate all the same. He found himself marvelling at how quickly the lust potion had worked before he felt his body being pulled around by those same lovely hands.

In what seemed like a few scant seconds, Rowena had managed to free Slytherin of much of his clothing, no small feat considering Snape's love of buttons, and was devouring every inch of exposed skin with impassioned nips and kisses. She stopped long enough to trace Snape's lips with her slender fingers. "These are beautiful," she whispered before shoving him roughly back onto the bed. 

"Rowena, my dear. What's come over you?" Slytherin asked innocently, feigning great surprise.

Snape felt his mouth internally fall open as Rowena Ravenclaw looked him directly in the eye and whisked her robes off with a wave of her hand. She was truly stunning. *No!*, he chastised himself harshly. *She's here against her will! I will not enjoy this!*

Before he could muster another thought, however, Rowena was on top of him, pinning him down with her arms and legs.

Snape felt genuine surprise course through Slytherin as his eyes popped open. "My dear!" he breathed. "What has...?" His words were smothered by Rowena's eager lips as she crushed his mouth with hers.

Snape couldn't remember the last time he had felt the heat of passion coursing through his body like this and he was having a difficult time remembering that he shouldn't be liking it. *Focus,* he mumbled. *Polyjuice ingredients...think polyjuice ingredients...*

The warmth of Rowena's tongue forcing its way into his mouth all but undid Snape and he unconsciously held his breath, his thoughts now incoherent with passion . . . and guilt.

*Can't . . . enjoy . . . this . . .*, he struggled.

Slytherin, meanwhile, was not suffering from any such battle of conscience and grasped Rowena gently by the shoulders. He rolled her over and pulled her under him, his eyes flashing with lust. "I'm so happy you've finally come to your senses, my dear," he panted in her ear.

Rowena reached up and ran her hands up the exposed skin on Snape's back and the potions master moaned inwardly, his eyes suddenly out of focus and his head spinning. God, he thought, she was just so beautiful. He wanted to lean down and nibble her ear.

As if on cue, Slytherin leaned down and nibbled Rowena's ear, causing the woman to release a deep moan of her own. "Oh, Salazar. You never used to do that!" she exclaimed in surprise. "Is your descendant teaching you a few things in there?"

Slytherin pulled his head back for a moment and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. His moment of puzzlement did not last long, however, as he soon found himself drawn back down into a deep and passionate kiss.

Snape, however, felt himself pull away from what was happening around him, his mind suddenly alert. What had just happened there? Had Slytherin inadvertently responded to an order from him while distracted? His earlier plan suddenly took on a new level of possibility and Snape felt a flood of excitement course through him. He had to think about this after Slytherin was asleep!

Salazar abruptly pulled his head up and away from Rowena's mouth and furrowed his brow warily. Snape felt his ancestor's attention shift to him. "What are you...?" Once again, however, the words never left his mouth as Rowena suddenly grabbed Salazar around the shoulders and threw him over onto his side. She growled and was on him before he could respond. "My god, your a tall, dark brooding thing, aren't you?" she breathed and ran her hands hungrily down his pale chest. "You have got to be one of the sexiest men I've ever laid eyes on, do you know that?"

Snape felt himself taken aback. Was she talking to him or to Salazar? *She's under the influence,* he reminded himself again. *She doesn't know what she's saying.*

Hungrily, Rowena reached down and pulled Snape up into a sitting position as she straddled his lap. "Say something," she breathed into his ear. "I want to hear that voice say my name!"

*Oh, god,* Snape moaned. He wouldn't be able to take much more of this.

"Rowena, my love," Snape heard Slytherin say with his borrowed silky voice and he felt Rowena shutter on his lap.

Lost in the throes of his own passion, Salazar glanced briefly over his lover's shoulder and into the living room before burying his face into her luxurious hair.

Though Salazar may have been too lost in desire to notice what he had seen in the next room, Snape most certainly was not. Though feeling the light-headedness of passion himself, he had been aware enough of his surroundings to immediately notice the untouched glass of brandy that sat on the end table next to the sofa.

Snape gasped internally. *Wench!* he thought. *She didn't touch that lust potion! The saucy tart knows exactly what she's doing!*

Something snapped inside him at the realization that Rowena was here by choice, taunting him with her seductiveness. Snape growled internally, his heart beating wildly. *Throw her down!* he yelled inside his own head and Slytherin immediately obeyed.

Rowena's eyes opened wide with surprise as Salazar seized her hard and tossed her onto the bed, throwing himself unceremoniously on top of her. "Oh, yes!" she screamed. "Forget the gentleman crap! Take me now!"

Salazar happily complied and Snape went willingly along for the ride. After all, it was clear she knew what Salazar had been up to. She had freely downed the brandy with the pregnancy potion in it but had ignored the lust potion entirely. Something had obviously changed since that morning in the library as she plainly now intended to become pregnant. Well, that is to say that Helena was going to become pregnant. 

Snape's mind stopped abruptly half-way through a deep kiss. Wait a minute. If Helena was going to be the mother of this child and not Rowena, then that meant that the father was not actually going to be Salazar. It was going to be . . . 

*Stop! Stop! Stop!* Snape suddenly yelled at Salazar inside his head.

Alas, had he but thought of it even thirty seconds sooner.

A/N:     As always, I intend to update weekly. I am loving the reviews! Thanks so much! I think I actually squeaked when I got the last batch! Oh, by the way, it will be explained soon how it was that Snape was able to "influence" Slytherin in this chapter! I'm definitely not writing this story "as I go". It's already been planned and outlined so nothing that has been introduced so far will be forgotten. Promise!


	11. Aftermath

**Recap of Chapter 10**:  Slytherin decides the best way to prevent Rowena Ravenclaw from disappearing into oblivion is to seduce her and get her pregnant. After making two potions, one to ensure pregnancy and the other to induce uncontrollable lust in its victim, Salazar lures Rowena to Snape's rooms. Snape is highly offended by the whole thing and tries to dissuade him from carrying through with his plan, but to no avail.

Much to Snape's utter horror, Rowena quickly downs the brandy offered to her by Slytherin that contains the pregnancy potion and the two end up in his bedroom soon afterward. During the ensuing "passions", Snape discovers that while Slytherin is mentally occupied, he seems strangely able to influence his ancestor's movements. 

While glancing back into the living room, Snape notices, much to his shock, that Rowena has not even touched the snifter of brandy that was laced with the lust potion. He quickly figures out that she knows exactly what she is doing. Something has obviously changed since the discussion in the library and she clearly now intends to become pregnant. The only problem is, Snape realizes a bit too late, the mother and father of this child are not actually going to be Ravenclaw and Slytherin. They are going to be Helena and Snape!

**Chapter 11 – Aftermath**

The following morning, Slytherin stood swirling the dark brown contents of the brandy snifter that had stood throughout the night on the end table next to Snape's sofa. He was shaking his head in disbelief, apparently only now figuring out what Snape himself had known since early the previous evening. 

"Amazing," Salazar said, still shaking his head. "She knew all along. Played me right to the end," he said quietly. "Over a thousand years have passed, Severus, and I have still not been able to get one over on her." 

Suddenly Slytherin laughed and threw his head back. "God, I love that woman!" he chortled loudly.

Snape felt himself burn with rage and indignation at Slytherin's joviality. He felt exploited and abused and Salazar was daring to make the entire ordeal seem a light-hearted joke. He had done much worse to men who had made him feel less violated than this, he thought. Slytherin would pay for this, he promised himself vehemently.

Slytherin's smile faded and Snape could feel his ancestor's mood darken. "Severus, I'm almost afraid to ask, but, did you just threaten me?" he asked slowly.

Snape felt himself internally look up at Slytherin and take an invisible step backward. He suddenly had a sense of standing before his father as a frightened young child. He had overstepped himself and knew he was now about to incur angry wrath.

To Snape's utter shock and amazement, however, Slytherin's expression suddenly softened. "Oh, now, Severus," he said sadly, placing an internal hand gently on his confused descendant's head, "You don't have to fear me like that. I would never do to you what that man . . ."

A sudden loud rap at the door caused them both to jump and prevented Slytherin from finishing his sentence. The jolt, however, did allow Salazar the unexpected chance to send the brandy in his hand flying in a nice arch onto the floor in front of him.

"Dammit!" he sighed in annoyance and looked up at the door. "What?" he demanded impatiently.

The door opened and Gryffindor popped his head into the room.

Both Snape and Slytherin immediately felt annoyance wash over them at the young man's appearance. "What do you want, Godric? I'm busy here." Slytherin asked impatiently, waving his hand to clean up the spilled alcohol.

Gryffindor's expression was cold and his voice tight with barely controlled anger. "No doubt. Professor Dumbledore wants to see us all in his office. Now."

Slytherin laughed unkindly. "Oh, he wants to see us _now_? Well, let me just drop everything and come running then, shall I?" he said with false pleasantry. The smile abruptly fell from his face and he turned away from Gryffindor. "Get lost," he spat with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Godric tensed and let out a slow, controlled breath. "Well, how about this then?" he said quietly. "How about you come with me now or I kick your sorry old arse all up and down these halls until we eventually reach the Headmaster's office. How about that?"

The two men stood solemnly regarding one another for what seemed like an eternity, both sizing the other up. Recent memories of a serious Gryffindor butt-kicking ultimately seemed to make the decision for him, however, and Salazar suddenly broke out into a wide, cordial grin. "Well, lucky for you, I was already planning on seeing the Headmaster today, so I'll let you lead the way!" Snape could feel the lie spring naturally from Slytherin's mind and the expression on Gryffindor's face told him he was no more fooled by it than he.

With a roll of his eyes, Godric turned and left Snape's rooms, followed closely by Salazar whose affable smile slid from his face like water from wax paper.

The march to the Headmaster's office was conducted in silence with Slytherin casting the occasional wary glance at Gryffindor. Snape could tell that he was anticipating the younger man to suddenly lose his cool and attack him. It seemed fairly obvious that Godric knew all the grisly details of the previous evening's events and Salazar wasn't taking any chances after the incident in the hospital wing.

Upon entering Dumbledore's office, the first thing Snape noticed was a seated Rowena who seemed to be making every effort not to look at the new arrivals. The mood was indeed solemn. Not only was Dumbledore sitting behind his desk looking particularly grim, but several of the paintings hanging on the walls were also shaking their heads with disapproval. Slytherin looked around the room and tossed his head back defiantly when he realized that all the stares were, without exception, levelled at him. "Oh, sod off!" he hissed at the paintings. "You wouldn't even be here if I hadn't founded the dammed school!"

Several of the past headmasters made offended "humphing" noises and turned back to their own activities.

Dumbledore rose slowly from his chair and indicated the last two remaining seats across from him. "Please," he said to Gryffindor and Slytherin. He remained standing until the other two had taken their chairs and then slowly sat himself, his face painfully serious. Snape always felt his insides clench when the sparkle in those old eyes disappeared.

The Headmaster sighed and leaned forward onto his desk, taking the three Founders in with his wise gaze. "Well," he said finally. "I dare say you three have been quite busy."

Slytherin snorted. "Look, Dumbledore, before you get started on what will undoubtedly be a . . ."

"SILENCE!" The force of the single word which emanated from the old Headmaster, stopped everyone dead, Founder and host alike. They had all felt the word pass through them like an electrical wave, so powerful was the magic propelling it.

"You will not," Dumbledore said quietly, "interrupt me again, Salazar."

Slytherin's mouth fell open. Snape could feel the astonishment course through the old Founder as he realized for the first time the impressive amount of power held within the old wizard before him.

Steadily, Dumbledore rose from his seat and looked down at the three people seated before him, all of them looking suddenly rather pensive.

"I must ask you again why you have selected me to become the fourth pillar. I need to hear the explanation once more from your own mouths," he said softly.

Something in Snape's memory triggered. The fourth pillar? Where had he just heard that expression?

When the only answer Dumbledore received was confused stares, he moved slowly from behind his desk and began to pace the room, his hands grasped thoughtfully behind his back. "Let me answer my own question then, shall I?" he said, looking at the three again. "You asked me to replace Helga Hufflepuff as the fourth member of Hogwart's Founding Four because, without her spirit's presence, your group found itself suddenly missing certain crucial qualities. Do you remember, at least, what those qualities were?" he asked patiently.

This time Gryffindor lifted his head and answered without hesitation. "I see where you're going with this, Albus," he said, nodding somewhat sanctimoniously. "We need the forgiveness, morality and unconditional love that Helga offered the Foundation. Without them, are group lacks . . . um . . ." he seemed to search for the right words.

"Principles and conscience?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Gryffindor brightened, "Yes! That's it!"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly and returned to sit behind his desk. He sighed and regarded them solemnly for a moment before speaking again. "I have decided that it is time to forge the fourth pendant and when that task is complete you will all return to your pendants until it is time for the Refounding."

Slytherin jumped to his feet. "What?" he demanded. "How dare you . . ."

"No, sir!" Dumbledore said, his voice again trembling with the promise of terrible power. "How dare you!" He rose to his feet and as he did so, Slytherin sank back down into his seat. "You have abused a trusted member of my staff!" he bellowed angrily. "I gave you the chance to set right some wrongs that had been done to you, but instead of using that chance, you did little more than prove that you cannot be trusted with the well-being of another! It is time for you to return, Salazar Slytherin!"

"And if I refuse?" Slytherin asked lightly, a slight smile playing across his lips. Snape internally held his breath. He had seen Albus Dumbledore this angry on only a few occasions before this and would not soon forget any of them. He wondered if Slytherin knew what he was doing.

Dumbledore leaned over the desk towards Slytherin. "Then I will draw you into Helga Hufflepuff's pendant," he said quietly.

Slytherin's eyes popped open. "Wha . . . you can't do that! If I get drawn into someone else's pendant, I'll never be able to escape! I'll be trapped there for eternity!"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in a 'well-I-guess-you-better-think-about-that-then' sort of way and sat back down.

Gryffindor sniggered and Rowena barely contained her own smile. Slytherin shot them a filthy look.

Dumbledore pressed his fingers together in a manner of contemplation as he regarded the other two Founders. "I hardly think you two are in a position to laugh at him," he said solemnly.

Gryffindor looked surprised by the Headmaster's admonishment. "Excuse me, Albus? I haven't done anything to. . ."

"Before you finish that potentially indignant statement, Godric," Dumbledore said evenly, "let me remind you that you willingly engaged in a common Muggle brawl in my school; a brawl that clearly endangered my students. I might add further that you did this without even attempting a peaceful alternative first. Were you even aware, Godric, that you almost hit a young first year girl in the mouth during your altercation?"

Rowena sat forward, her brow furrowed. "Now wait just one moment, Headmaster. Godric was only defend . . ."

"And you," Dumbledore said to Ravenclaw, cutting her off in mid-sentence, "abused one my staff members in one of the worst ways imaginable."

Rowena sat up abruptly, her feathers obviously ruffled. "Hold on there!" she said defensively. "It was Salazar who was using Professor Snape's body, I just . . ."

"Went along with it because it suited you, knowing full well that Severus had no say in whether or not he was about to become a father."

A sheepish expression crept over Ravenclaw's face and she sat back, her eyes falling to her shoes.

"Further, I must ask you, Rowena. Did Helena know what you were doing last night?"

Rowena looked back up, her heated defensiveness returning abruptly. "Of course!" she spat. "After I left the library yesterday morning, she told me that she didn't want to see me disappear into oblivion, so she agreed to have a child. I would never have done that to her without her consent! And, I assure you, her offer was genuine!"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "And she consented to it being Professor Snape, knowing it would be against his will?"

Rowena's defensive expression crumpled slightly. "Well," she said hesitantly, "on the first day that we were bound together, Helena mentioned something about finding him quite attractive."

Dumbledore heaved a sigh and shook his head. "That, as you well know, does not amount to consent." He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose in clear frustration. "You have all behaved outrageously," he said softly. 

"Now, look here, Dumbledore," Gryffindor said, sitting forward in his seat. "I'm willing to concede that Rowena and I may have done a few things that could be considered questionable, but you must admit that Salazar's behaviour has made us look positively saintly by comparison!"

Dumbledore slowly shook his head as he watched them. "I am not getting through to you, am I?" he said softly. "You are Founders. The things you have done are beyond excuse and arguing degrees at this point is nothing but utter folly." He looked Gryffindor directly in the eye and said, "Bravery without judgment risks becoming treacherous," he shifted his steady gaze next to Ravenclaw and said, "intelligence without due thought is potentially perilous," finally, he turned to Slytherin and fixed him with his sternest look, "and resourcefulness without morality is almost always cruel," he said evenly. 

The three Founders glanced at one another, their faces all registering varying degrees of shame and embarrassment.

Gryffindor sighed heavily and looked back at Dumbledore. "You're right, of course, Albus," he said softly. "There is no excuse for our behaviour. We will do as you ask and return to our pendants."

Slytherin's mouth opened and he sat forward. "Now, wait just a . . ."

Gryffindor looked sternly at Slytherin. "We will _all_ do as you ask."

Rowena nodded, a slight blush of embarrassment still clinging to her cheeks. "Yes, we will." She turned to Salazar, who was squirming uncomfortably. "And to your host, Salazar, I would like to extend my most heart-felt apologies. I was so eager to prove my superior intellect by outmanoeuvring you again that I neglected to even consider the implications to our hosts." She looked down, shame on her face. "I don't know how I will even begin to make this up to Helena." She looked up at Dumbledore, her expression pained. "I think it's time for us to leave before we do any more damage."

Though not nearly ready to accept an apology from anyone, Snape felt slightly vindicated, even if it was too late to actually set things right. More than that, however, he felt enormously relieved to know that Helena Ravenclaw had not been a party to the previous night's activities. It somehow made it all easier to bear knowing that they were _both_ victims in this Founder game. Even now he could sense that Slytherin had no intention of cooperating with Dumbledore and retrieving the pendants locked in his secret chamber. Snape knew this "game" would not be over until he found a way to help Dumbledore retrieve the Founder's Pendants.

Slowly, Snape became aware of the fact that Slytherin's mind was wholly occupied by the conversation currently taking place with Dumbledore and that he was all but ignoring his descendant. Snape, therefore, allowed himself a moment to reflect on the plan he had formulated the night before as Salazar had slept off his night of passion. He had worked out quite quickly how it was that he had been able to influence the old Founder while in the throes of lust. The theory that he had been working on the previous morning in the library had been born of the realization that Snape would never be able to influence Slytherin with the direct use of words and reason. What would happen then, he had wondered, if he tried imposing strong feelings and visualizations onto his ancestor's mind instead? Slytherin himself had admitted early on that he found it difficult to interpret Snape's abstract thoughts and had, as a result, given him his voice back to make communication easier. 

His question, of course, had been answered during Slytherin and Ravenclaw's little tryst. While Slytherin's mind had been focused elsewhere, Snape had seemed able to force his own strong emotions onto him and influence what he was doing physically.

While Salazar was still fully engaged with Dumbledore and company, Snape decided to do a little experiment. Clearing his mind of all forms of articulated language, he forced himself to feel deeply the need to rub his nose. He imagined that he could feel his nose tickling as it did whenever he breathed in crushed pepper. 

Slytherin reached up and absently rubbed his nose.

Having learned by now to hide any feelings of triumph lest he should draw unwanted attention to himself, Snape nodded internally, keeping his emotions even. So, now he had a weapon. Though not entirely certain how he was going to use it to retrieve the pendants, he was still gratified to know that he was no longer a mere prisoner to the whims of his compelling ancestor. 

Snape had, at last, found some power.

A/N:     I guess I don't need to say again that I will continue to update weekly, but I will anyway! I continue to be thrilled by the reviews. I think I'm becoming dangerously addicted to them, actually. I may need to enter rehab after the story's done.


	12. Sloshed

**Chapter 12 – Sloshed**

Slytherin finally settled himself into the soft leather chair next to the fire and opened the book he had been carrying with him for the last half hour. Snape had thought the man would never manage to find his way back to his rooms and was relieved to finally have him on familiar ground. He had been somewhat confused as to why Salazar had stopped off at the library to pick up a copy of _Hogwarts: A History _first, but had supposed he just wanted some reading for the afternoon.

The meeting with Dumbledore had ended on a cordial enough note, all things considered, with all the Founders agreeing to meet him back at his office later that evening. There, they were to begin the process of forging the pendant that the Headmaster would claim as the newest member of the Founding Four. Apparently, once forged, he was to hold it in his hand until an impression of his life's spirit transferred into it. The Pendant of Dumbledore, as it would then be known, would be placed with the remaining three into the Founder's Pendants Box. Snape had wondered idly what the point of it all was, but had not pressed the question with Slytherin as he had seemed most preoccupied at the time.

Salazar had promised to retrieve Godric and Rowena's pendants and bring them with him to the Forging. Snape had been able to tell that his ancestor had absolutely no intention of doing so, of course. Why Dumbledore had let Slytherin out of his sight with such a lame promise was anybody's guess, but Snape had given up trying to guess at the old man's motivations long ago. As usual, it seemed to be up to him to fix the situation and find a way to tell the Headmaster where the pendants were hidden.

So, now they sat in Snape's rooms once again, Slytherin flipping through his newly acquired book and Severus biding his time.

Salazar sighed and studied intently the portion of the book entitled, '_The Chamber of Secrets: Why Did Slytherin Do It?_'. He read the entire chapter thoroughly several times before snapping it shut brusquely. "Dammit!" he said harshly and then sighed again, his mind working furiously over what he'd just read.

Snape could feel his ancestor's intense mental frustration and knew this was his first, best chance to attempt to implement his plan. Clearing his mind, he forced himself not to _think_ only _feel_. With focused concentration, he did indeed make himself feel; the intense, overwhelming desire for a drink, that is. He visualized a glass of brandy in his hand and imagined he could smell the delicious fragrance of it next to his nose. He could practically taste it on his tongue.

Slytherin licked his lips and rose abruptly from his seat. He dropped the book unceremoniously onto the coffee table and moved to the brandy stand next to the fireplace. He poured himself a generous glass and returned to the leather chair, sinking back into it with a sigh. He sipped the liquid lightly, his mind still focused on what he had been reading in the book.

Internally, Snape switched directions and immediately forced himself to feel extremely thirsty. He visualized picking up the brandy glass and draining it down in one satisfying gulp. He felt only that would quench his sudden tremendous thirst.

Slytherin automatically picked up the glass and drained it back in one shot. He shivered at the sudden introduction of the alcohol into his system and looked at the glass in surprise. "Hmm," he mused. "I guess it was a harder day than I thought."

Snape nodded internally and kept himself from formulating any clear thoughts. As he had guessed, though quite able to distinguish Snape's rational thoughts from his own, Salazar did not seem able to distinguish between his own raw emotions and his descendant's. He seemed, therefore, to be assuming them all to be his own. Snape knew, however, that Slythein was simply too intelligent to be fooled for long and understood that he must be precise with his one chance. He was going to have to get Salazar Slytherin sloshed.

Snape had taught himself long ago to resist drinking alcohol during the summer holidays because of the amount of time he spent in the Dark Lord's presence and since Dumbledore prohibited any kind of imbibing on school nights, he had essentially reserved school term weekends for any drinking. Always aware that he could be called away to a Dark Revel on weekend evenings, however, he rarely drank more than a small snifter of brandy on a Friday or Saturday evening. Basically, Snape knew he was extremely sensitive to the effects of alcohol and that he was going to have to be very careful with Slytherin as a result. He had to give his ancestor enough to get him to pass out, yet not get him so drunk that Snape's body would not obey him once Slytherin was asleep. 

Snape suddenly became aware that Slytherin's mind was moving away from the contents of the book and drawing closer to him as a potential source of company and entertainment. He knew that he would have to keep Salazar thinking about something as he continued to get him drunk.

*Why are you bothering to have Dumbledore put his spirit imprint into a Pendant?* he blurted out without much thought. *I don't understand what the point of all this is. I mean, with all due respect, what's to be gained by keeping your spirits hanging about?* 

Slytherin sighed and looked at the empty glass in his hand.

Snape forced another strong desire for a brandy. 

"Well," Slytherin said as he rose once again from his chair and crossed to the brandy stand. "We need the Fourth Pillar for the Refounding, when it happens. Dumbledore fits the bill, as it were." He poured another large snifter and returned to his seat.

*Refounding?* Snape asked absently. He wanted to take a large gulp from the newly poured glass. He knew it would taste so good.

Slytherin took a large gulp of the brandy. "There was a prophecy made during our life times that one day Hogwarts would fall."

Snape's attention snapped fully to Slytherin and he momentarily forgot to feel thirsty. *What?* he said, shocked by the revelation.

Slytherin nodded, his eyelids already a little heavy. "It was prophesied that when it fell, we would refound a new Hogwarts upon the remains of the old," he said. "You may not know this, Severus, but this school does not just hold our names, but actual elements of our spirits. When we founded this place, we all put our hands upon the earth that it was to be built upon and infused it with the essence of who we were."

Snape forced himself to keep enough of his mind back from the conversation to continue with his plan, despite how astonishing he was finding it, and made himself feel extremely thirsty again.

Salazar emptied the glass again and put his head back against the chair. "So, you see, when we discovered that we would once again have to Refound the school, we decided to leave imprints of our spirits behind for the task. The only thing we would need would be the living flesh of a descendant, with our spirits inside, to touch the ground and transfer our essences back into its foundation," he said, stifling a yawn. "Problem was, we knew it could be potentially dangerous if anyone with ill intent ever got their hands on those pendants. You know, before the Refounding could take place. It would essentially mean the end of Hogwarts if they did." He looked at the empty glass again. "So we hid the Pendants the best we could and decided never to have any portraits made of ourselves. That way they couldn't ever be forced to blab about the pendants' whereabouts. Not that it did much good in the end, obviously, since they were found."

Snape felt an overpowering need for more brandy as he listened. The more he craved it, he noted, the easier the task was becoming.

Slytherin rose again and made yet another trip to the brandy table, this time leaving the glass and simply grabbing the bottle. When he returned to the chair, he seemed somewhat light-headed and stumbled a little. "But, anyhow, that's where Dumbledore comes in," he was saying.

*Ah,* Snape said, suddenly understanding. *He replaces all the qualities that went missing when Helga died.*  Snape was sooooo thirsty. He visualized tilting the contents of bottle back into his mouth.

Salazar was nodding as he took a large swig out of the bottle. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Without those qualities, Hogwarts would basically be founded as a school of Dark Arts. What Dumbledore said about us was bang on you know, my boy," he said with a shaky nod of his head. "It doesn't matter how many good qualities we each have, without forgiveness, love and morality, we are all dangerous." He took another swig of the bottle and this time, let out a very loud belch. He seemed instantly horrified at himself. "Oh, excuse me, son," he said before taking another large drink.

Snape was surprised to hear his ancestor admit his potential shortcomings and even more shocked to hear him admit his need for the "sissier" emotions that Dumbledore seemed to embody.

Salazar scoffed. "Please, Severus, you insult me! Just because I'm a complete and utter bastard most of the time, doesn't mean that I don't know that we need those 'sissy' emotions, as you so eloquently call them! I helped found this school as a place that would fight _against_ darkness. I love kids, my boy. They're my weakness. My wish is only that they be safe within these walls."

Snape stopped himself from thinking clearly the obvious thought hovering near the surface of his consciousness. _Except Muggleborns, _he was dying to say._ You just feed them to the snakes. _ Instead, he just felt like a long, refreshing drink of brandy which Slytherin happily obliged him with.

"I had ten kids of my own, you know," he said, his words starting to slur.

*How interesting,* Snape said, not interested in the least. He actually despised people's stories of their offspring and would usually be edging towards the door at this point. Right at this moment, however, he needed to keep him talking. *I feel for your wife.*

Salazar shook his head dismissively, "Never had a wife," he said, spittle flying from his mouth. "Rowena wouldn't marry me, so I just chose not to have one." He took another drink. 

Of course, Snape thought. He should have seen that one coming. His children probably all had different mothers. Slytherin really was a piece of work.

With a hiccough, Salazar tilted his head to one side, obviously too drunk to catch Snape's snide, ill-hidden thoughts and began reminiscing. "God, I loved them. Each one so different, so unique."

*Who was your favourite?* Snape asked absently, not really caring.

His ancestor scoffed, "Parents don't have favourites, Severus!" he admonished, but quickly dropped his head back against the chair, a dreamy smile crossing his face, "Though, I must admit that some just touch your heart in a certain way. My youngest, Laurella, was like that. Proud and intelligent, she was. When she was a little girl, she hated crying so much that she used to stuff her fist in her mouth to try and stop herself," he chuckled at the memory. "Of course, when I picked her up, she'd fight for a minute and then end up weeping on my chest." He sighed and the smile slowly slipped from his face. "God, I miss them," he whispered, his eyes misting over. This time, he took a large gulp of the brown liquid without any prompting from Snape.

Salazar sighed again, his mind becoming slow and foggy. "Speaking of parenthood, Severus," he said sloppily, "I've been meaning to tell you how sorry I am about what happened last night." 

Snape stiffened internally and tried to force down the anger that suddenly threatened to wash over him.

"It's just that I never stopped to consider anything beyond saving Rowena," Salazar continued. "You have to understand that because you're still a child yourself, Severus, I just didn't put the idea together of you actually being a parent." He took another deep swig. "So, I'm really sorry, son. I hope you can forgive me one day." He suddenly brightened, his grin lop-sided. "If it's any consolation, being a parent is great!"

Snape felt indignation wash over him and could not push it down. How dare Slytherin minimize his experience! And the old Founder dared to call _him_ childish? With a final internal push, fuelled by a sudden rush of indignant anger, Snape visualized putting the brandy bottle to his lips and draining the entire contents into his waiting mouth.

Already too drunk to resist, Salazar shakily pulled the bottle up to his mouth and tilted it back. He drank the entire contents, allowing some to slop down his face. The bottle slipped from his hand and smashed onto the floor. Salazar's eyes rolled back for a moment before refocusing on the room around him. He looked quite puzzled.

"I don fee so well," he slurred. He tried to rise from the chair, but only managed to fall forward onto his knees. He swayed there for a moment, his eyes rolling back into his head again. He finally closed them tight and slumped forward.

Slytherin was unconscious before he hit the floor.

Snape would have loved nothing more than to spring into action once Salazar was down, but, unfortunately, his body was too drunk to obey his commands. He screamed internal orders at his arms, demanding that they push his body up off the floor, but the only thing he managed to get by way of a response was a slight twitch in his left thumb.

He knew that his own offended anger had worked against him again. He had forced Slytherin to finish off the bottle out of irate spite without stopping to think that it was likely too much for his own body to handle. He sighed internally. He had lost track of how many times he had gotten himself into trouble by acting impulsively on his own anger. Despite years spent training himself to force down feelings of rage and resentment and react instead with cold, calculated logic, his darker emotions tended to have a way of bubbling back up at truly inconvenient moments. Maybe Slytherin was right. Maybe when push came to shove, he did act like a child.

Well, he thought, he was just going to have to wait and keep testing his body until enough of the alcohol had worked its way through that he could make it obey again. Hopefully Slytherin wouldn't wake up before that happened.

After twenty minutes of waiting and testing without success, Snape was beginning to wish that Slytherin had passed out in the soft leather chair as opposed to spread-eagled across the living room floor. He hadn't realized before now just how cold the flagstones were, even through the thick woollen rugs.

Just as he was beginning to despair that his body would never process the alcohol, he heard a knock on the door. His heart leapt hopefully. Help was at hand! He tried to make his voice work, but managed only a pathetic croak that was muffled into the carpet. The person outside knocked again, this time louder.

*Dammit!* Snape thought. If someone actually came to him, then all he would have to do was tell them how to get to Slytherin's secret chamber and he could forget trying to move. "Rhhmmmfffff!" he cried desperately, his voice cracking with the effort.

There was silence from the other side of the door and Snape assumed the person must have given up and left. His heart sank.

The forceful pounding that suddenly assaulted the door, however, immediately told Snape two things. One, not only had the person not given up but was actually getting quite impatient out there and, two, that it could, therefore, only be one person. The Gryffindor-Potter hybrid.

*Of course,* Snape spat internally. *Who else?* Didn't anyone _not_ named Potter ever think about trying to save him?

A/N:     For those still following the story, worry not! The end _is _coming, I promise! I'm thrilled by the continued comments and reviews of everyone who is still reading. You have no idea how much your continued input has meant to me! Anyone new to the story, I'd LOVE to hear from you too! Reviews are definitely the writer's reward and are treated like gold 'round these parts! Thanks again and I hope you continue to enjoy! See you next week!


	13. Going Back

**Chapter 13 – Going Back**

Upon reflection, nothing that happened _after_ hearing Godric at the door and _before_ finding himself on the receiving end of a face full of freezing cold water should really have surprised Snape. After Gryffindor had forced the door open and strode haughtily into the room, Snape had actually held out a brief moment of hope that he might be able to speak to the man before Slytherin awoke. Naturally, however, the young fool had done just about everything in his power to naively thwart his efforts. Between laughing uproariously at Slytherin's inebriated condition (a laugh which sounded suspiciously Potteresque to Snape's ears) and delivering pious lectures about the inappropriateness of ingesting large amounts of alcohol, Gryffindor had basically found himself much too busy to notice Snape's attempts at communication. Indeed, with the man running circles around the room looking vainly for the Pendants, Snape had only managed a pathetic and croaky, "Bendants ur in by glassrum, stoopud!" before letting his head fall back onto the carpet with an aggravated grunt.

Additionally, as if being utterly ignored by Gryffindor was not bad enough, once finished with his search and satisfied that the Pendants were not present, Godric had proceeded to grab Snape by the ankle and unceremoniously drag him into the bathroom. Even the Potion Master's desperate attempts to try and inform the brainless git that Slytherin was not currently in charge of the body being hauled into the tub were met with a brainless lack of awareness on the part of the younger Founder. When he had forced his mind to stop reeling from the dizziness long enough to insist that, "I'm Snabe, you foo!", the young man had smirked and said, "Yes, Salazar, I know you're a snake," and turned the cold water onto his face.

And so now Snape sat drenched in his own tub, acutely aware that his single chance of outwitting his illustrious ancestor was currently washing down the drain with the glacial water. As Snape suspected would happen, at the first touch of freezing cold water on his skin, Slytherin abruptly awoke and, not surprisingly, took immediate charge of Snape's body. He flew into a sitting position in the tub, choking and sputtering water out of his open mouth. "Dammit!" Slytherin swore as he swiped at his eyes. "What in the hell is going on here?" As he cleared the water from his eyes, Salazar focused on Gryffindor's smug face hovering next to the tub.

"You were completely smashed, you old fool," Godric said, sitting back and folding his arms sanctimoniously.

Salazar sat up further in the tub and looked around, obviously bewildered. Snape could feel his ancestor's mind working furiously, trying to piece together what had happened. As the puzzle suddenly slid into place, Snape could feel complete and utter delight bubbling to the surface of Slytherin's mind. He put his head back and roared with laughter.

Gryffindor sighed and looked up at the ceiling with annoyance. "Yes, I suppose you would find it amusing that you got so drunk you passed out on the floor," he smirked.

Shaking his head, Salazar finally managed to get control of himself, clutching his sides from his fit of hilarity. He wiped the tears from his eyes as he gasped for breath. "You are such a fool, Godric!" he managed between heaving breaths. "That wasn't me, it was Severus!"

Gryffindor sat forward, his arms uncrossing. "What?"

Salazar shook his head and started to rise, dripping wet. "He got me drunk so I'd pass out. I guess he figured he'd be able to tell you where the Pendants were hidden while I was absent," he said, still chuckling. 

Gryffindor's face fell.

Stepping out of the tub, Salazar leaned against the wall, still holding his sides. "I bet you didn't even listen to him, did you? He probably told you exactly where they are, too!" He couldn't help another round of laughter and bent over, his eyes closed with the effort. "God, you're an idiot! Thank the gods it was you who found me! Anyone else would have actually stopped and listened, but not you! Oh, no!" Salazar wiped at the tears streaming down his already wet face and shook his head in amusement. "Without Helga you are the most smug, self-satisfied little twerp I have ever met, Godric!" Salazar wagged his finger at the younger man, "And thank god for that, is all I can say! I might have actually been in trouble there otherwise!"

Gryffindor flushed and pressed his lips into a thin angry line, the scarlet blush revealing the depth of his embarrassment and humiliation. "Go straight to the devil, Salazar," he sneered and with the sound of Slytherin's mocking laughter still following him, he turned and stormed from Snape's rooms, his fists clenched at his side. 

Snape almost thought the entire thing had been worth it just to see the expression on Potter's face.

Slytherin hummed happily as he fixed his robes in front of the full-length mirror in Snape's bedroom. He was freshly showered and changed and had spent an inordinate amount of time on his hair. With a certain reluctance, Snape had  to admit that he had never looked so good.

"That's more like it, son," Salazar said airily. "Take a little pride in your appearance for a change. You're a good looking lad."

Slytherin finished with his collar and stood back to get a full view, turning on the spot to make his robes flare out dramatically. "Hmm," he mused, "I wish I'd thought of making _my_ robes do that while I was here. Very effective."

If Snape had been expecting a furious tirade upon having his plan discovered, he had been very much mistaken. While warning him sternly never to try that again, Salazar had actually seemed very proud of him for thinking of it. He had said it had shown true Slytherin ingenuity and cleverness. He had even gone so far as to tell him that he was proud to have him as a member of his family. 

Despite his best efforts, Snape had felt a warm glow at the old Founder's words. Just as quickly, however, he had angrily shoved the warmth away, reminding himself harshly that the man had stolen not only his body, but his pride as well. Besides, he had reasoned, it was highly doubtful that Slytherin would have been quite so agreeable about the whole affair had his plan actually worked. He would probably have had him writhing in mental agony for hours afterward, in fact. Satisfied that he had dealt with any tender feelings towards Slytherin, however brief, Snape had then gone on to dredge up old familiar feelings of loathing and anger and place them firmly at the forefront of his consciousness. 

So, now they stood, both of them admiring the reflection in the mirror and Snape almost felt tempted to let a little bit of his emotional shield down again. The consideration turned out to be unnecessary, ironically, as what happened next sent Snape's protective emotional barrier crashing down around him with such ferocity that it left him reeling. The pain that seared through his arm made his stomach turn and his mind freeze in terror.

Slytherin also hissed in pain and pulled up the sleeve of his robe. He looked at his forearm and smiled at the sight of the Dark Mark. He nodded and brushed his hand across it. The pain disappeared instantly. With a flourish of robes, Salazar turned towards the door. "Well, Severus," he said. "I think it's time to meet my one true Heir."

Snape felt himself squirm with panic and he forced himself to try and remain calm, "You can't leave, Salazar," he sputtered, aware that his voice sounded frightened, despite his efforts. "Dumbledore will be watching all the exits in case you try and escape!"

Slytherin laughed again and swept up his copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ from the coffee table. "How long will it be before you know me, son? _I _am a Founder! I was, in fact, the very wizard who placed the charms upon this school to prevent Apparations. They do not apply to me!"

Before he could offer a rebuttal, Snape felt himself caught up in the familiar feeling of Apparation and watched helplessly as his rooms disappeared around him.

Slytherin Apparated into a forest clearing, the stars above him the only source of light. "Hmm," he smirked, "my Heir obviously has a flare for the dramatic. Not unlike myself in that way, I see."

Snape didn't answer. At the very moment they had appeared within the clearing, he had felt himself become dizzy with terror. So many times he had forced the fear down before Apparating into the presence of the Dark Lord, compelling himself to replace the raw dread and panic with a guarded calm. This time, however, he had no control of his own body, nor his own voice; the very things he used as shields to protect himself. It was clear Slytherin had no idea how purely evil his Heir was and did not understand what they were walking into. He shivered in dread, memories of suffering cruel punishments at Voldemort's hand flashing through his mind. He hugged himself internally, trying to keep from moaning in despair. He knew he was going to die and much to his great shame and humiliation, he felt like crying.

He slowly became aware of Slytherin looking down at him within his own body. He mentally looked up at his ancestor, his eyes wide and frightened. He was shocked at what he saw. Slytherin looked like his heart was breaking as he gazed down at Snape. Before he could mentally pull away, Salazar had reached out and put an internal arm around Snape's shaking shoulders and pulled him close. "I know this is hard, son. I've seen in your mind the things he's done to you, but you have to believe that you're safe with me, Severus," he cooed softly. "This is where I have to be, my boy. As hard as that may be to understand, he's my last true Heir and I must do this."

Snape suddenly stiffened as Slytherin's words hit home. Do what? Was he planning on leaving his body and joining with Voldemort? That would leave him defenceless and at the mercy of the Death Eaters! *Oh, god!* he screamed and grabbed onto Slytherin desperately within his own mind. *Please, don't leave me here!*

For a brief and horrible moment, Snape felt himself stumble backwards into a memory he had long since thrust to the back of his mind. Himself, as a child of eight, being punished by his father. Locked in the dungeons of Snape Manor with no food and no water. And then, apparently, forgotten. His last words screamed to his departing father, _"Please, don't leave me here!"_ Where his parents had gone and what they had been thinking by imprisoning him for that length of time, he never did find out, but for three long weeks he survived on nothing but the condensation gathered on the chains bolted to the stone walls and small rodents. His stomach turned at the memory.

He felt the grip of Slytherin tighten around his shoulders and the man seemed about to say something when the clearing was suddenly flooded by bright torch light.

A low, smirking laugh wound its way around them and Snape recognized the drawling snigger of Lucius Malfoy.

Snape felt Slytherin move away from him internally and collect himself, obviously mentally preparing for the upcoming meeting. Snape, for his part, continued to emotionally cling to Salazar like a life preserver and the old Founder made no attempt to push him away.

"So, he returns," Malfoy sneered as he entered the clearing, pulling his mask off as he did so. He was followed closely by several other torch-bearing members of Voldemort's mob, all of whom elected to keep their masks in place. "The lamb to the slaughter," he continued, stopping in front of Slytherin, obviously unaware of whom he was truly talking to. "You must think our Lord a true fool if you believe he will ever forgive you for this one, Severus."

Salazar put his head back and laughed loudly, a move so un-Snape-like that Malfoy's smile faltered and slid from his face in confusion. He glanced at the other Death Eaters nearby, all of whom were shuffling uncertainly.

Lucius managed a small scoff, though his eyes still looked wary. "I hardly see what you could be finding so amusing at this moment, Severus," he sniffed. "You are revealed for the spy that you are and will now suffer as no man has suffered before. Our Lord will..."

"Oh, shut up," Slytherin said dismissively, waving a hand casually in Malfoy's direction. "Severus was right. You really are the most frightful bore. _Silencio._"

Malfoy's hand shot to his throat as his voice broke off in mid-sentence. His eyes bulged wide at the realization that he could not make a sound and he lurched towards the other Death Eaters, grabbing his wand as he did so.

Immediately, the men dropped their torches and fumbled awkwardly for their wands. Before any of them could even raise them towards the old Founder, however, he had raised his own hand again and said, _"Expelliarmus",_ nonchalantly, barely stifling a yawn as he did so. All of the wands flew neatly into his hand and he immediately stuffed them into his pocket where they seemed to melt away into his voluminous robes.

The Death Eaters all looked at the man before them, clearly stunned at the display of wandless magic they had just witnessed. Slytherin sighed and examined his nails for a moment before glancing back up at Malfoy. He raised his hand leisurely towards him again and said, "_Finite Incantatem"._ Malfoy jumped back in fear before grabbing his throat again. He continued to take instinctive steps away from the Founder as he tested his voice.

"Take me to my Heir, Mr. Malfoy. I am already bored with having to deal with you," Salazar said, still glancing down occasionally at his nails.

With another quick look at the men surrounding him, Malfoy nodded and turned as if to head back into the forest. "As you wish, Severus," he said. At the last second, however, he abruptly turned back, his robes swirling, and yelled, "Now!" at the other men. 

At once, all the men within the clearing seemed to launch themselves towards Slytherin, their hands outstretched. In lieu of their wands, they had evidently opted for the next best alternative; a full Muggle body tackle.

Not even pulling his gaze away from his nails, Slytherin moved his other hand slightly towards the bodies descending on him and said, "_avolo recessim"_, in a blasé tone. 

Every man in the clearing looked as though they had each been lifted by a giant hand and tossed backwards. The sounds of screams and breaking branches was all that could be heard for several seconds afterward.

Before Snape could stop himself, he had thrown back his head internally and laughed loudly at the sight of his tormentors arching gracefully through the air and into the forest. Slytherin glanced down at him and allowed a tiny smile to touch his lips.

"Well," Salazar said to Snape, "I think we best go in search of my one true Heir as I don't think these gentlemen will be ready to join us again for a few moments."

Snape's laughter immediately faltered and he stiffened in fear as Slytherin strode into the forest in the direction of the Death Eaters. He felt himself grab onto Slytherin internally and huddle against him. His paralysing fear and sudden need for protection made him feel sick and a sense of self-loathing and humiliation washed over him. He had sworn many years ago that he would never again need anything from anyone. Even Dumbledore had learned to offer his assistance in a circuitous way so as not to offend his Potion Master's need for self-sufficiency. Slytherin's hand gently patted his back, but it did little to comfort him.  

Snape could not figure his ancestor out. Salazar seemed determined to be with his Heir, despite everything he had learned about the beast. While professing to want only the best for Hogwarts, Slytherin seemed hell bent on throwing in his lot with a murderer and a madman. Snape had to admit to himself, however, that this alliance would certainly ensure that he would never have to return to his dreaded pendant; something that seemed foremost in Slytherin's mind. The Dark Lord would no doubt welcome his powerful ancestor into the fight with open arms.

Snape tried to console himself by remembering that Slytherin had promised him that he would be safe. If he did plan to join with Voldemort, maybe he would still try to convince him to let Snape return to Hogwarts unharmed. Before the thought had even fully developed in his own mind, however, Snape snorted derisively. He knew perfectly well that that would not be the outcome for him. He actually believed that Salazar's promise had been genuine, but he knew Voldemort. Oh, yes, he knew him well. There was no way he would allow a traitor like Snape to escape his punishment once he had him in his hands. He would make an example of him that no other Death Eater would soon forget. Once Slytherin had abandoned his body, he knew there would be nothing that could save him from the Dark Lord's wrath. Even Slytherin wasn't that eloquent.

Snape noted, with a deep sense of irony and sadness, that his sacrifice for the Order had apparently been for nothing. Not only would Slytherin end up joining Voldemort, thus making him all but invincible, but Snape himself would die at the hands of the Death Eaters. He suddenly felt a tightness in his chest and a misting in his eyes. He truly did not want his life to end this way. He suddenly wanted to live to see his child born. What would they look like? Oh, gods, hopefully they wouldn't get his nose! He wanted to hear another of Dumbledore's silly jokes over a cup of tea and lemon drops. And, dammit, he hadn't even had the opportunity to humiliate Potter about his last abomination of a Potions essay!

*Salazar!* he suddenly gasped. *Please don't do this! It's not too late to turn ba...*

Slytherin patted his head internally. "I'm afraid it _is_ too late, son," he whispered softly.

"Well," a cold voice said from nearby, piercing his heart like an icicle, "If it isn't our lost lamb, returned to the flock." Snape slowly looked up into Voldemort's cold, red eyes and serpentine grin. "Welcome home, Severus Snape."

A/N:     Hello again! Just another quick note to say a heart-felt thank you to all those who have reviewed and continue to review.  Knowing you're out there reading makes all the difference! Every time I receive them, in fact, I get all inspired and fly to my computer to write (truthfully). So, thank you, thank you, thank you and see you all next week!


	14. Dinner with Tommy

Chapter 14 – Dinner with Tommy 

The moment of silence that passed between Slytherin and Voldemort as they faced one another for the first time seemed to Snape to be interminable. Then, quite without warning, though perfectly in keeping with his character, Salazar suddenly stepped forward and enveloped the Dark Lord in a giant hug. "Son!" the Founder said happily and squeezed the serpentine beast until his red eyes popped open.

Voldemort had obviously not been expecting this particular reaction from the man he believed to be Snape as he seemed simply too taken aback to immediately react. Indeed, by the time he seemed able to find his voice again, Slytherin had already released him and retreated a step. 

"What do you think you're doing, Snape?" Voldemort spat, brushing his silken robes as though they had been contaminated. "Do you beg for a punishment worse than death?" He reached for his wand and pointed it squarely at Snape's chest.

Salazar smiled and shook his head, "Of course, son," he said patiently. "You must be very confused right now," he smiled paternally and raised his hand. "_Expelliarmus_," he said gently, the kindly expression never leaving his face.

Voldemort's eyes flew open as his wand left his hand and arched over to the tall, dark man before him. In what seemed a split second of understanding, the Dark Lord's mouth opened wordlessly and he stepped back unsteadily, obviously having made the mental connection.

Salazar nodded and pocketed the wand. "That's right, my boy," he smiled. "You undoubtedly heard about Severus releasing me from my Pendant. Well, surprise!" He spread his arms in front of him. "It's me, son!"

Any response that Voldemort might have made to the pronouncement was interrupted by the sound of angry voices rushing into the clearing from several directions.  Lucius Malfoy led the pack of battered Death Eaters as they hastened to their Lord's side, all of them having now abandoned their white masks. While each looked decidedly hesitant after their previous encounter with Slytherin, every man seemed prepared to try tackling the tall dark-haired man once again. Snape knew, of course, that this need to protect their Dark Lord stemmed not from an underlying desire to assure his safety, but from their fear of his wrath, should they disappoint him. Accordingly, they all stepped forward en masse, their hands outstretched once again and their expressions grimly resolute.

Voldemort, however, raised his hand to stop them before they were able to take more than a few steps towards the Founder. "Stop!" he commanded. All of the men halted immediately. "Lucius!" Voldemort said harshly, "come here!"

Slowly, Malfoy crept forward, sneering at Snape as he did so, and prostrated himself before his Master. "Yes, my Lord?" he asked in a meek voice.

Voldemort did not look impressed. "Defeated all of you, did he?" he admonished.

Malfoy did not lift his forehead from the ground as he spoke, "My Lord. I cannot explain it. He somehow managed to…"

"Perform wandless magic?" Voldemort finished for him.

Lucius dared to glance up at his Master, "Yes, Lord. But how did you…?"

Voldemort reached out a strong foot and planted it firmly on Malfoy's forehead, sending him into an awkward backwards tumble. "You fool!" Voldemort spat. "Think about it for a moment! You saw with your own eyes Snape release the spirit of the Illustrious Ancestor from his Pendant! Put the two together!"

Malfoy's eyes widened and he looked over to Salazar, his mouth hanging open. "That's Slytherin?" he choked softly, the fear evident in his eyes.

"Yesss!" Voldemort hissed and turned to Salazar, his expression immediately becoming humble. "Forgive us, Great Father," he said, bowing to his ancestor. "We did not know that you had found your way to us. What a glorious day this is!"

Immediately, every man in the clearing, including Malfoy, was bending down and bowing to Slytherin. Snape, who had until now merely watched the proceedings with a numb dread, noticed that many of the Death Eaters were glancing at one another nervously as they went about the business of being subservient before Slytherin.

"We are your most humble servants," Voldemort continued, his eyes glancing back and forth between Salazar and the edge of the clearing nearby.

A huge smile crossed Slytherin's face and he stepped forward. "Now, don't be silly, Tommy!" he said happily. "You don't have to bow to me!" With that, he once again reached out and grabbed his descendant in a bear hug, crushing the man in his powerful arms. He kissed The-Lord-Of-All-That-Is-Most-Horrid-And-Dark on the cheek and tousled his hair.

Snape thought he could actually see the indignant rage seeping through the Dark Lord's pores. If he hadn't been in such imminent danger himself, he would have laughed uproariously at Voldemort's mortification. He could not help but notice how quickly and easily Slytherin seemed to identify a person's humiliation threshold and then immediately dash right over it. The man had a veritable gift. There were times when Snape just couldn't help admiring the old bastard.

When Slytherin finally released him from his iron grip of familial affection, he turned immediately away, thereby missing the warning hiss that Voldemort levelled at his Death Eaters, all of whom were staring, slack jawed, at their Master. Having once been a Death Eater himself, Snape had to wonder which part the other men in the clearing had found most shocking; the hug, kiss and hair tousle or the reference to their Dark Master as 'Tommy'.

Slytherin, meanwhile, had turned to the clearing behind him, his arms outstretched dramatically and his robes flaring. "Well," he said, "I think this calls for a celebration, my boy!" he said. "It's not everyday you get to partake in a family reunion!" With a wave of his slender hand, a long dining table appeared, complete with enough comfortable seats to accommodate every person present. Salazar strode down the length of the table, holding his hand over the white linen table cloth as he walked. As his hand moved over the surface, elaborate plates of succulent, steaming food and mugs of fragrant mead and wine appeared. 

When he reached the head of the table, Salazar turned and looked back at the men still crowded at the other end of the clearing, all, save Voldemort, still bowing humbly. With a laugh, he motioned the men forward. "Oh, come, come!" he said happily. "Stop smelling the grass and sit down!"

The Death Eaters all glanced nervously at their Master as they straightened, evidently looking for some sort of direction. With a forced smile of this own, Voldemort motioned with his hand that all the men should sit around the table as instructed. Before joining them himself, however, the Dark Lord snapped his fingers twice and waited while a small man with a shining silver hand appeared from the edge of the clearing and rushed to his Master's side. "I see you were not present to try and defend me with the rest of my loyal servants, Wormtail," he said derisively.

The small man jumped from foot to foot nervously, "I-I'm sorry, Lord. I was busy preparing the evening's entertain..."

With an impatient wave of his hand, Voldemort silenced his servant and indicated the seat at the head of the table opposite to Slytherin. Wormtail quickly bowed and rushed over to pull the padded chair out for his Master. Gracefully, Voldemort settled himself into the chair and folded his hands in front of him. He looked as though he was about to speak when Slytherin suddenly snapped his fingers at Wormtail. "Hey, there! Little man!" he said pleasantly.

Wormtail looked over at Slytherin, somewhat bemused. 

"You're the personal assistant to my Heir here, am I right?" he asked him.

Hesitantly, the short man looked to Voldemort for guidance and the Dark Lord nodded his ascent. "Such as he is, yes."

Slytherin nodded, still smiling pleasantly. "Super!" he said, "I wonder if you could do me a little favour, hmmm?"

Wormtail swallowed and looked nervous. "I suppose it depends what it is, sir," he said tentatively.

"Your Master has a book, a very large, old book, in his possession. He has probably had it for some time, in fact, and considers it to be extremely valuable and important. Know the one I mean?"

Snape noted that Voldemort shifted ever so slightly in his seat at the mention of the book and glanced at his assistant.

"I would like you to Apparate to wherever he keeps it and return here with it as quick as you can. Understand?" Salazar continued pleasantly.

Wormtail pressed his lips together in confusion and looked at his Master. "Does he mean the big green leather one that you have locked in your...?"

"Silence!" Voldemort roared as he rounded on Wormtail.

Slytherin laughed. "Now, now, son. I'm not asking for much," he said to Voldemort before turning his attention back to Wormtail. "Now go fetch it. There's a boy."

With a sudden shake of his head, Wormtail faced the Founder and stood his ground obstinately. "I only obey my Master," he said. 

Slytherin sighed and raised his hand, "As you wish. _Dominatio_," he said casually. Wormtail's face went immediately blank and his eyes took on an unnatural gleam.

"As I said, young man, fetch me the book. Now."

Wormtail nodded once and grabbed his wand from within his robes. Voldemort rose from his chair as if intending to grab him, but the smaller man had Apparated before the Dark Lord could catch hold of him. Voldemort slowly turned and looked at Slytherin, his expression cold. 

Salazar indicated the seat behind the Dark Lord. "Sit, Tommy," he said pleasantly, "Please."

Voldemort slowly resumed his seat, his eyes never leaving the Founder's face. The other men around the table had obviously picked up on their Master's discomfort and were glancing nervously back and forth between the two men heading the table.

With a sudden, wide smile, Slytherin indicated the feast before them. "Eat! Please, everyone, before it gets cold. It's my own recipe!"

The Death Eaters looked at one another with trepidation, obviously uncertain if they should eat the food before them or not.

As if to alleviate their concerns, Salazar grabbed his silver utensils and dug into the lamb stew with vigour. He slurped the hearty meal down with gusto and smacked his lips happily. "Damm!" he declared. "I do make a fine lamb stew!" Obviously still concerned, but seemingly unwilling to anger the Founder, the Death Eaters slowly lifted their own utensils and began to eat the stew on their plates. The raised eyebrows and nodded approvals suggested to Snape that most of them agreed with Slytherin's opinion of his culinary abilities.

Voldemort, however, declined to eat and simply sat staring at the Founder. Snape knew the moods of the Dark Lord, perhaps better than anyone, and recognized that his demeanour had shifted. Something had transpired between Slytherin and his Heir at the request for the book and now Voldemort seemed to be waiting for the next step to be taken.

As if on cue, Slytherin looked up from his meal and glanced around the table. "So," he said conversationally, "which one of you was supposed to host my spirit?"

Snape felt his breath catch. Another host for Slytherin's spirit? What was he talking about? Clearly Voldemort had intended to share his body with Salazar, had he not?

Several of the men choked on their food and all of them instantly looked to Voldemort. The Dark Lord, for his part, continued to sit silently. Though his eyes glanced occasionally to the edge of the clearing as if searching for something, he  otherwise remained staring fixedly at the Founder across the table.

 "Well?" Salazar asked again. "Who was it?"

All the men looked at one another nervously.

Slytherin took a long swig of wine before leaning heavily on the table. "Gods, that is good wine!" he said. He looked around the table. "Come on now. You don't want me to Dominatio the whole lot of you, do you? After all, the effects are permanent, which means you'd be obliged to obey me forever." He chuckled. "And, I should warn you, I have a really peculiar sense of humour, boys, so I don't think you want to know the kinds of things I'd have you doing!"

From the middle of the table, a meek looking man slowly raised his hand into the air.

From the end of the table, Snape could see Voldemort's nostril's flare slightly. So, he _had_ intended to release Salazar into someone else, he realized. Suddenly, nothing seemed to make sense and Snape found himself becoming anxiously aware of every nuance of the activities transpiring around him, trying to garner information. He realized, for one thing, that despite Salazar's seemingly casual presentation, his mind was actually working rapidly and he seemed to be carefully measuring his every word and action. 

Salazar sat back in his chair and looked at the man who had raised his hand. "Hmmm," he said thoughtfully. "You're descended from me then," he said. The man nodded and glanced at Voldemort frightfully.

"So, what did you do to deserve this fate, my boy?" Slytherin asked him, running his index finger thoughtfully along his chin.

The man shrugged and looked down at his plate. "I wanted to," he said softly. "It would have been an honour."

"Hmm, right," Salazar said slowly.  

Slytherin nodded and looked over at Voldemort. "What, not tucking in, Tommy?" he admonished pleasantly. "The stew's great!"

Voldemort continued to stare straight ahead at the Founder, his expression unchanged.

Slytherin nodded again and snapped his finger. "Well, maybe you'd prefer something else, then," he said and the plate of food in front of the Dark Lord vanished into thin air. Salazar then reached into his robes and pulled out his copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ and flipped through it until he found the chapter devoted to the Chamber of Secrets. With a casual flick of his wrist, he sent the book flying gracefully across the table where it landed right in front of Voldemort, still open to the same chapter. "So, why don't you tell me a bit about that then, Tommy," Slytherin said pleasantly, settling back in his seat.

Voldemort shifted almost imperceptibly in his seat and lifted his chin slightly. "What is it you would like to know exactly? It's a book about the history of Hogwarts."

"Indeed," Salazar said reaching for his wine. "Why don't you tell me about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Voldemort swallowed, "I'm not certain what you think I can tell you about it that isn't already written here."

Slytherin swirled the wine in his glass. He watched it as he spoke, glancing only occasionally at Voldemort. "Well, why don't we begin with how you went about building it?"

Snape assumed he must had misunderstood his ancestor and internally shook his head. Several of the Death Eaters also snorted in surprise and looked over at Slytherin, their expressions bewildered.

Voldemort allowed himself a small, derisive laugh. "Excuse me?"

Slytherin slowly put the wine back on the table and sat forward, his expression becoming dark. "I said, how did you go about building it?" he said quietly.

Voldemort shook his head dismissively. "Forgive me, great ancestor," he said, unable to hide the sarcasm in the last two words, "but if you are suggesting that I wrote this chapter of the book, I feel obligated to point out to you that this was written almost three hundred years ago. I indeed have had a long life, but not nearly that long, sir," he chided.

Spreading his hands slowly over the surface of the table on either side of his plate, Slytherin leaned even further forward and hissed at Voldemort. "I did not say that you wrote the chapter, stupid snake!" he hissed, "I said that you built that chamber! I have no doubt that you _did_ use the specifications in that book to design it though, did you not?"

Once again, Voldemort's face became placid. "My understanding, great ancestor, is that you built that chamber before leaving Hogwarts so that you could purge the school of Mudbloods."

The rage that Snape felt rise up through Slytherin's mind and break over him like a hurricane-driven wave, threatened to overwhelm him, so utterly ferocious was the emotion. The old Founder rose to his feet and pointed a long finger at the misshapen monster at the other end of the table. "You!" he bellowed with such rage that the actual ground beneath them shook, "have killed in my name!" he bellowed. He raised his chin and narrowed his eyes at Voldemort, shadows of fury and rage suddenly seeming to obscure his face. "SALAZAR SLYTHERIN DOES NOT KILL CHILDREN!" he roared with such rage that the hair on the Death Eater's heads flew back as though they had been caught in a magical storm. Their eyes flew open and every man around the table grabbed onto it for support as the ground continued to buck beneath them.

Inflamed with magical fury, Slytherin seemed to have grown by several feet as he stood before his Heir, his hand outstretched and a magical wind whipping his hair and robes around him. "I am here to avenge myself upon you, Beast!" he cried. "And anyone who has assisted you! If you have used my name to justify killing, then your day of reckoning has arrived!"

The flood of relief that swept over Snape would almost have been magical itself had it not been interrupted by a huge snake launching itself frantically at Slytherin's neck. The last thing Snape wondered, before feeling the long fangs sink home into his jugular, was what horrible atrocity he had committed in another life to have so firmly turned the gods against him.

A/N:     Just another heart-felt and appreciative thank you for all the reviews! They keep the creative engine running and make doing this worthwhile! Thanks again and see you next week! 


	15. Till We Meet Again

**Chapter 15 – 'Till We Meet Again**

The shock that Snape experienced as the snake's fangs sank into his flesh was nothing compared to the shock he experienced at feeling the fangs suddenly withdraw again and the serpent hiss an ardent apology in his ear. Perhaps the poison had worked its way almost instantaneously to his brain, he reasoned, because he was quite certain that snakes did not utter apologies to their victims in any language, much less English.

"Please, forgive me!" the serpent hissed fervently as it fell back to the earth. Slytherin spun on his heel and regarded the animal reproachfully. He swiped his hand over the bite marks and Snape felt the wounds instantly heal.

Salazar brought his hands up to his hips and shook his head. "I'm most disappointed, Serpent," he said. It took a moment for Snape to realize what he was hearing as his ancestor spoke. Though the words he heard inside his head were clearly English, the sounds actually leaving Slytherin's mouth sounded more like they belonged to a leaking steam valve. The man was speaking parseltongue, snake language, and Snape, along for the ride, seemed somehow able to understand it.

The snake before them kept its eyes on Slytherin. "True Master, I did not feel your magical presence within this Death Eater until I had already assaulted you!" it hissed with apprehension. "Poor Nagini has been mislead. Lesser Master told me to kill you, but he did not tell me who you were, sir." The snake shifted its gaze to Voldemort and the fury within its serpentine eyes made the men around the table shift uncomfortably. Even the Dark Lord swallowed and moved slightly in his seat.

Slytherin nodded, his expression still admonishing. "Well, I should hope that you're sorry. To attack the Great Master Serpent himself is a crime most grave indeed," he said, tapping his foot.

The giant snake lowered its head and pulled itself closer to Salazar's feet. "Nagini offers her life to the Great Master Serpent and asks that he do with her as he sees fit," she hissed softly.

A broad grin suddenly spread across the Founder's face and he looked up happily at Voldemort. "Well, looky here, son!" he said cheerfully in English, all sign of his previous rage gone. "Your snake is offering me her life. You have a really hard time keeping _anything _loyal to you, don't you?"

He turned away before he could see the utter, burning hatred in his descendant's eyes. Slytherin looked down at the serpent once again and then knelt down beside it. He patted its head and Snape felt a genuine affection surface in the man toward the creature. "Now, see here, Nagini," he smiled pleasantly, once more switching to parseltongue. "I quite understand. I know you didn't realize you were being asked to kill your Great Master, so I do not hold you responsible. You know whom I _do_ hold responsible, though, don't you?"

Nagini nodded its serpentine head and looked over at Voldemort who sat wide-eyed at the end of the table. "It's hissss fault!" the snake hissed angrily. "He would have had Nagini give her soul away by attacking the Great Master who bred our kind! He to whom we have sworn our eternal loyalty!"

Salazar nodded in agreement. "That's right." He looked over at Voldemort and smiled mischievously. "I guess he must have lulled you into service by taking advantage of your oath to me, am I right?" he asked as he turned back to the snake.

Nagini nodded vigorously, "Yessss! He said he was the true Heir to the Great Master and that we must obey him!" The snake looked back at Voldemort, it's eyes cold, "Shall I kill him, massster?" she asked anxiously.

Salazar shook his head. "No, Nagini. An attack on that beast would also kill you. There's something else I would rather you do for me."

The snake slithered closer, obviously happy to do her Great Master's bidding. "Yessss, Master? Nagini will do anything you ask!"

Slytherin leaned closer to the snake so that Voldemort could not hear their conversation. As he spoke to the animal, several of the Death Eaters instinctively rose in their seats to hear better, despite the fact that they could not understand the language being spoken.

"I would like you to gather as many of your kind as you are able and report to Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts School. Do you know where that is?" he said softly.

The snake nodded its head enthusiastically. "Oh, yessss, sir! Lesser Master has shown us. We sometimes wait in the forest in case someone wanders in so we can grab them and take them to the Dark Lord."

Slytherin's face darkened, "Hmmmm," he said, looking sideways at Voldemort. The Dark Lord shifted again under the Founder's menacing gaze and swallowed. Snape was certain that he saw a thin layer of perspiration covering his ugly forehead.

Salazar turned his attention back to the snake and continued to speak in a soft voice. "Well, your True Master is giving you new orders. You are to report to Dumbledore and from there you will offer your assistance to him in any manner that he sees fit. You are never to take orders from the Lesser One again. Will you do that?"

The serpent nodded enthusiastically, "Oh, yesss, sir! It would be our greatest honour! My kind was born to serve you, Master, and we will do so until the day we die!"

Slytherin nodded and smiled, "Yes, I know. Now, please go and gather all you can find. Unfortunately, no on there will be able to speak to you in your own language, so you will have to wait until I return to . . ."

Snape suddenly spoke up, his heart racing with excitement, *Harry Potter speaks parseltongue!* he said enthusiastically, instantly feeling like a foolish child overly excited by the prospect of offering something useful to a respected adult.

Slytherin nodded happily. "Well, thank you, Severus. Very useful information. Nagini, you will report to one Harry Potter when you reach the school. Understand?"

Nagini nodded again. "Lesser One's mortal enemy. Nagini has met him. Yessss, sir!" Without another word, the serpent turned and slithered off through the grass and vanished within seconds.

Slytherin stood up again and turned back to the table of Death Eaters. "Well, sorry about the interruption, boys. I was just recruiting some new allies to pick you all off with," he said pleasantly and returned to his seat at the end of the table.

All the Death Eaters looked at one another again and many of them swallowed in fear.

"Why don't _you_ just finish us off, sir?" the timid young man in the middle of the table asked. His question had not been belligerent but truly curious, his eyes betraying his fear.

With a sigh, Salazar leaned forward on the table and regarded the young man sadly. "What's your name, son?" he asked him.

With a shudder, the young man looked to the Dark Lord furtively before answering his question. "David, sir," he said shyly. "David Soulsby."

"Hmmmmm," The old Founder said thoughtfully. "I asked you once already and now I shall ask you again. What, exactly, have you done to deserve death?"

With a swallow, David glanced once again at Voldemort, whose eyes had narrowed to slits as he watched his young Death Eater. "I-I..." he tried to say through his stammering. "I was honoured to be chosen..."

Slytherin sat up and waved at him in annoyance, "Yes, yes, you're honoured. I remember," he said with an exasperated sigh. "I wonder how honoured you would have felt when Tommy here," he waved dismissively at the Dark Lord, "cursed you to death immediately after having my spirit released into you, hmmm?"

Snape felt himself hesitate internally. What was Slytherin talking about now? Why would Voldemort have killed the host as soon as . . . wait just a moment. The pieces suddenly slid into place in Snape's mind. How could he have been so simple? Voldemort would not have seen Slytherin as a potential ally but as a potential rival to his power. A true threat. Something the Dark Lord could not tolerate.

Salazar nodded and smiled. "You must excuse me if I suddenly seem to drift off and have another conversation from time to time. My host descendant, Severus, does a lot of thinking and we frequently discuss things as they come up." 

All the Death Eaters looked at one another at the mention of Snape's name, their expressions evidently confused.

"Oh, yes, "Salazar said with a satisfied nod, "Severus is still very much present. We've become a bit of a team, actually, he and I. And at the moment, he is thinking that his former Master over there," he lifted his chin towards Voldemort, "wanted me dead because I would have been a potential rival. But, there's much more to it than that, isn't there, Tommy?"

Voldemort lifted his chin defiantly and narrowed his eyes.

Everyone at the table, save for Slytherin and Voldemort, jumped as Wormtail suddenly Disapparated into the clearing. 

With a hiss, Voldemort leapt from his seat and grabbed for the large green book in the small man's hands, but Salazar was faster. He also jumped to his feet and with a small flick of his wrist, leaned forward and pointed to the leather-bound tome. "_Accio Book of Truths_!" he said and the volume arched gracefully from Wormtail's hands and into the Founder's.

The excitement that suddenly rushed through his ancestor almost made Snape giddy with anticipation. He could tell just by the change in Slytherin's mental demeanour that he had just received the prize that he had come for. He held the book aloft before the table of men and shook it forcefully. "The Truth, my lads!" he said triumphantly. "And I'm afraid it will do anything but set you free!" 

As if on cue, almost half of the Death Eaters around the table suddenly went rigid and tilted back in their seats. With a smash, they all landed on their backs on the ground, their legs still bent around their chairs.

Every other man around the table stood up abruptly and backed away from the table, their expressions shocked and confused.

"Ah," Slytherin said pleasantly, "it worked! A little curse I invented many years ago. It always works best when mixed with food for some reason. Never really figured out why. Something to do with the stomach juices maybe," he said with a shrug.

The remainder of the Death Eaters, Malfoy among them, had now huddled close to Voldemort and were staring, open-mouthed, at the their compatriots on the damp ground.

"Oh, don't worry," Slytherin said pleasantly, "they're not dead. They've just been put into a Forgiveness Sleep. All you need to do to revive them is to get a pardon for them from every single loved one of every single person they've ever killed and they will wake up instantly, as though from a pleasant sleep! Very simple!" He put his hands on his hips and smiled enigmatically. 

The smile suddenly faltered, however, as something seemed to occur to him. "Oh," he said, one hand slipping slightly from his hip, "unless you think that might be a difficult thing to do." The smile crept back onto his face and he put his head back and laughed uproariously again. By the time he was finished, he was wiping tears from his eyes.

Snape felt himself internally chuckle at the men's predicament. He knew that Voldemort would no more bother with them than offer to make the rest of his Death Eaters pudding. The men were as good as dead and everyone present knew it. The beauty of it being, of course, that they had essentially killed themselves with their own choices.

Malfoy seemed to find some personal courage and lifted his head proudly, "Why not all of us, then?" he sneered.

The smile slid from the Founder's face and Malfoy took an instinctive step back. "Because, my dear Mr. Tiresome-Bore-of-a-Malfoy," he said slowly, as though addressing the participant of a nit-wit convention, "I cannot bring permanent harm to any of my descendants. Basically, you lot," he finished with a disgusted wave of his hand. "Could a Grandfather be prouder?" he scoffed and shook his head. He finally sighed and motioned to Malfoy. "Come here, boy," he said softly, still holding his book securely to his chest.

Malfoy hesitated and blinked rapidly, fear obvious on his face. Slytherin sighed impatiently, "I just said that I cannot permanently harm any of my descendants, Malfoy, so come here! Now!"

Without further hesitation, Malfoy crossed back over the clearing and stopped before the Founder. With a smile, Salazar put a fatherly arm around Malfoy's shoulders and turned him away from the crowd of Death Eaters at the other end of the clearing. He lowered his voice so no one else would hear and leaned close to Malfoy's ear. "You are not one of my descendants, Mr. Malfoy," he said casually.

It took a second for the information to register and Malfoy's eyes suddenly flew open. Before he could even turn his head to respond, however, Salazar whispered, "_Dominatio_," in his ear. Malfoy's eyes went utterly blank.

Slytherin looked back over at the crowd of anxious men. "Won't be long!" he called out pleasantly, offering a little wave. He turned back to the slack-jawed man still nestled in his arm and spoke softly again. "Now, I want you to listen to me closely, Lucius, because I'm afraid that we have a little problem here," he said. "As you know, Severus' position as Dumbledore's spy has recently been discovered. Now, you see, that's a bad thing because it leaves our poor Headmaster quite spyless. Terrible, isn't it?"

Malfoy nodded blankly.

"So," Slytherin continued conversationally, "I came up with a little plan. Now, this is what I want you to do for me, Lucius. You are to act in exactly the same manner as you always have done in your daily life; when around your family, your friends back there and especially around your Dark Master. Understand?"

Malfoy nodded blankly.

"The only difference being that you are to report regularly to either Albus Dumbledore or Severus Snape and tell them everything that is going on in this little organization of yours. You will also take, unquestioningly, any and all orders given to you by either of these gentlemen. You are not to be caught and you are to use all your wits and wiles to keep your new position as spy a secret. Is that clear?"

Malfoy nodded blankly.

"Excellent. Now start acting like yourself and go back to your Master. Tell him whatever you need to about this little meeting so he'll not be suspicious of you. Go on then."

Malfoy's features suddenly reanimated and he looked at Slytherin for a moment. His face looked as arrogant as ever, save for a slight desperation and pleading somewhere in the back of his blue eyes. Like a fish suddenly finding itself on dry land, Snape thought. 

With a flourish of his robes, Malfoy turned and stalked back to the Death Eaters, his expression disgusted and contemptuous. He leaned over and whispered something to Voldemort, shaking his head as he did so. The Dark Lord instantly looked at Slytherin and laughed. "Did you seriously think that Mr. Malfoy here had the where-with-all to know where to find the Pendants, Salazar? Only _I_ had the intelligence to read the abundant clues left behind and figure out where they had been hidden all these long years!" 

Salazar shrugged. "Merely a guess on my part that Mr. Malfoy found them, son," he said casually. "Don't suppose you'd like to tell me how you figured it out, then?"

Voldemort lifted his chin defiantly and crossed his arms, his expression triumphant.

"Thought not," Slytherin said. He looked around the clearing at the fallen men and the wreckage of dinner. "Well, I dare say that my work here this evening is done," he said with a satisfied nod. He looked at Voldemort and smiled. "All in all, you did alright. You still have your life and half your Death Eaters. Mind you, I am expecting most of them to get picked off soon, but still, you didn't do badly," he said, examining his nails. "If it had been Godric Gryffindor who had appeared here this evening, you'd all be stone cold dead right now."

Snape heard Voldemort scoff under his breath. "Yes, well, I suppose I should be counting my blessings that his spirit wasn't released from its Pendant then, shouldn't I?"

Slytherin tilted his head to the side and looked momentarily perplexed, "Oh," he said pleasantly, "didn't I tell you? The spirit of Godric Gryffindor has been released into Harry Potter." The old Founder snapped his fingers dramatically, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Well, ta, ta!" he said and Disapparated from the clearing.

The last thing Snape saw as the forest disappeared from around him was Voldemort's serpentine eyes flying open in sudden shocked terror. 

Snape put his head back and laughed from the very core of his being.

A/N:     Well, there it is! Slytherin and Voldie's family reunion. Yet another sincere thank you for all who have reviewed (and recommended my story to friends – thanks doubly!!!). For some reason, I am looking forward even more than usual to potential reviews for this chapter (maybe because my husband has left for the long weekend and I am pathetically lonely *sniffs pitifully*). Happy Easter to everyone who's celebrating it and see you next week!


	16. Of Prophecies

**Chapter 16 – Of Prophecies**

Without quite realizing what he was doing, Snape skipped along beside Slytherin, swinging on his hand and chuckling happily to himself. The previous hours spent in the company of Voldemort and his cronies had left him giddy and excited. The fates afforded to many of the men by Salazar and the promise of justice still to come for those who had managed to escape his initial barrage, had left Snape feeling happier than he had for a very long time.

Slytherin looked down at his descendant and smiled. "Feeling good, son?" he asked him.

Snape nodded and grinned up at him. "Oh, yes! That was great! Especially turning Malfoy into a spy!" he said excitedly. "That was brilliant! Just brilliant!"

"Well, thank you, my boy," Slytherin said and grinned like a man whose son has just told him he's the best Dad in the world. He strode down the hall of Hogwarts that led to Dumbledore's office and allowed himself a satisfied sigh. He gripped his green leather book tightly to his chest and glanced down at Severus, amused by his descendant's child-like glee.

Snape was about to say something else, when both he and Slytherin were suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. From outside the windows of the castle, they heard desperate screaming rising up from the grounds below. Salazar strode quickly across the hallway and, with a flick of his hand, opened one of the large, stain glass windows. He leaned out into the early morning air and looked down.

Through the dull glow of pre-dawn, Snape and Slytherin could make out a figure on the ground several stories below, jumping up and down and waving their arms frantically. Through the swearing and screaming, Snape was able to recognize the voice of Godric Gryffindor and raised an internal eyebrow. What in the hell was he making so much fuss about down there, he wondered?

And then he saw them. What had at first glance appeared to be mottled grass all around the Founder's feet turned out, in actual fact, to be about two hundred or so brown and green snakes, all of varying size. Despite the fact that they did not appear to be attacking him, Gryffindor was clearly panicking and turning on the spot, waving his hands frantically as he did so. Snape realized that the words leaving his mouth were actually curses and hexes and he evidently seemed to be trying to subdue the serpents magically. Interestingly, however, the curses seemed to be having no effect on the animals whatsoever.

Slytherin casually sat down on the windowsill and looked down as though about to watch a Quidditch match. 

Snape felt himself shift uneasily. *Um,* he said carefully, *shouldn't we tell Gryffindor that they are on our side?* he suggested.

Slytherin nodded and looked at his nails. "Oh, definitely," he said and continued to examine his cuticles.

Below them, Gryffindor continued to scream and jump up and down.

As Snape watched, he could see Nagini attempting to get close enough to him to talk to him, but Godric kept panicking and backing away from her, throwing a few curses at the serpent for good measure. Snape felt certain he may burst into laughter again. He had never suspected that Potter could jump so high. Then a thought occurred to him. *Won't he harm them though?* he wondered.

Slytherin sniggered and looked back down at Godric. "No. They're my snakes. The other Founders can't harm them. I bred their species myself over a thousand years ago and they are magically programmed to respond to and obey me." Slytherin chuckled. "I used to occasionally let one "accidentally" find its way into Godric's bedchamber if he had particularly annoyed me that day."

Both he and Snape shared an exceptionally uproarious laugh and Gryffindor immediately looked up at the window.

As their laughter subsided, Snape could hear Godric screaming up at them. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Salazar?" he bellowed. "Did you bring these things here?"

Slytherin finally stood up and leaned out the window. "Keep your drawers on, Godric!" he called back, his face still sporting a wide grin. "If you'd stop long enough to listen, you'd know they're here to help!"

Gryffindor shook his head, obviously furious. "You know I don't speak parseltongue, old man!" he yelled back.

With a deep and exasperated sigh, Salazar called back, "Not the snakes! Try listening to your _host_ for a second, you great thicky!"

Gryffindor looked as though he was about to respond when his attention was suddenly pulled away and he looked sideways as though unexpectedly hearing another voice nearby. His face immediately flushed red and he glared up at Slytherin. "You complete and utter..."

Slytherin cut him off. "Hey, now!" he admonished. "Don't blame me because you don't listen to your own descendant! Those snakes were ordered to report to Harry Potter because he can speak parseltongue. It's not my fault you're too much of a nit wit to listen to him!"

Godric shook his head with anger and looked down at Nagini who had been watching the exchange with concern. Snape could not hear what was being said, but he could tell that Godric and the snake were now exchanging words. The snake nodded and looked up at Slytherin expectantly.

With a smile Salazar leaned further out the window, "Well," he chuckled, "if you've finished with your ballet practice, Godric, perhaps you could bring Nagini and join me in the Headmaster's office. I have some news you may find interesting," he called down to the younger man.

Slytherin did not wait for Gryffindor's response and pulled away from the window with a satisfied grin. Snape really was starting to like this man.

Slytherin sat in one of the comfortable chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk watching Rowena carefully. She had already been seated when he had entered the room and had barely acknowledged his presence. She seemed strangely withdrawn and introspective as she sat next to him, chewing her lip absently. Salazar was worried about her and wasn't entirely certain what to do. Snape could feel his ancestor's frustration and knew he wanted to reach out and take her hand. 

Godric and Nagini had also been waiting in Dumbledore's office when Snape and Salazar had arrived. It seemed that the non-Apparating rule of Hogwarts simply did not apply to Founders, house elves and magical serpents. Godric, seated on his other side, had remained silent on the subject of the snake "attack" and Nagini had settled herself in front of the fire and promptly gone to sleep.

Dumbledore, for his part, was utterly absorbed in Slytherin's green book and was nodding to himself as he flipped through the various pages. He glanced up at the others in the room and sighed. "Well," he finally said and gently closed the volume, letting it rest on his lap. "I'm very pleased for you, Salazar," he smiled over his glasses. "I'm sure this book will set many things right for you."

Salazar nodded and returned the smile gratefully. "Thank you for having enough faith in me to trust that I wouldn't do something else stupid, Albus," he said. "I know I couldn't have retrieved that if you hadn't allowed me to leave here."

Dumbledore nodded and watched Slytherin proudly. "You have single-handily put an enormous dent in our enemy's armour, Salazar. We are truly in your debt."

Slytherin nodded, looked directly at Dumbledore and smiled proudly. "Yes, I guess you are!" he said happily.

Dumbledore gave a small laugh and shook his head. Slytherin turned his full attention to Godric, his tone suddenly conspiratorial. "You should have seen the look on Tommy's face, Godric!" he said excitedly. "I dare say, when he thought he'd be meeting not just Harry Potter one day, but Harry Potter infused with Essence of Gryffindor, I think he probably had to go and change his robes!"

Godric shook his head and could not suppress a reluctant smile. "I'll admit it's good Salazar," he conceded, "but ultimately, I don't know what good it will do. You know I can't stay in Harry's body much longer." He looked back at Salazar. "I won't be with him when he faces Voldemort, as much as I may want to be." The smile slid from his face and his voice betrayed the level of his sadness and disappointment.

Slytherin's eyes still twinkled mischievously, however. "Ah," he said, "but _Tommy _doesn't know that, does he?"

Godric's smile slowly returned as he watched Slytherin. "This is true," he said slowly.

Salazar sat forward in his seat and looked Godric directly in the eye. "But, you must listen to me, Harry," he said, taking Snape by surprise. This was the first time he had addressed Potter directly since Gryffindor had taken charge of his body. "Voldemort is not stupid, my boy. Anything but. He will very quickly figure out that Godric is not with you." He leaned even closer to the younger Founder. "Harry," he said, all trace of amusement gone from his voice and face, "When you find yourself in the presence of the Dark Lord again, _you must not hesitate_!"

As Snape watched, he thought he saw the persona of Godric Gryffindor momentarily recede and Harry Potter emerge behind the green eyes. He looked at Slytherin for a long moment and then nodded solemnly. "I understand," he said softly. Then, as quickly as Snape had seen Harry appear, he seemed to once again retreat behind Gryffindor.

Dumbledore watched the exchange with obvious satisfaction. He slowly rose from his desk and looked down at the three Founders before him. "Well, my dear friends," he said warmly. "It feels as though our time together is drawing to a close for now."

The three looked at one another and a sadness seemed to pass between them. They all shared a poignant smile and nodded their heads as though an unspoken understanding had been reached between them. 

Snape felt something stick in his throat and he suddenly found it difficult to breath. He knew what was going through his ancestor's mind but unexpectedly did not want to face it.

The three Founders looked up at Dumbledore, their expressions satisfied and accepting.

With another smile, Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him. "We'll meet again this evening then, I think," he said softly. "In the hospital wing."

Without another word, they all rose from their seats. Godric and Rowena filed out of the Headmaster's office without a backwards glance and Snape felt Slytherin's eyes following his beloved out the door. Before leaving himself, however, Slytherin grabbed his book from Dumbledore's desk and turned to face the Headmaster, his eyebrows raised. "By the way, Albus," he said. "What about my snakes? What do you have planned for them?"

Dumbledore sighed and looked over at the sleeping serpent. "Well," he said, "the first thing I need to do is have a little chat with Nagini here once Harry is able to act as translator. I'm sure she can tell me a few things about Tom that we don't know."

Slytherin nodded. "Indeed. I'm sure she can."

Dumbledore sat back down behind his desk and sighed deeply. "But, other than that, I don't know. Off the top of my head, I can think of a few specific jobs that some of them would be good for. Spying on revels and the like that our new spy, Mr. Malfoy, cannot attend, for example."

Snape felt his ancestor hesitate for a moment before replying. "I know that this is really none of my concern, Albus, but may I make a suggestion for those you don't send on spying missions?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Of course you may, Salazar. I would be glad to hear it."

"Despite the fact that the idea may sound unappealing from the perspective of students and their parents," he began, "I think you should take advantage of their Apparating abilities and have most of them guard the school and its grounds."

Dumbledore seemed to consider this for a moment, slowly nodding his head. "Yessss," he said thoughtfully. "You're correct in that it would cause quite a stir amongst the student population, however."

Slytherin nodded and sighed. "I know. But, I think you should consider the alternative. I suspect Tommy was planning on using them in an eventual assault on this school. In fact, I think that he was already using them to watch Hogwarts from the forest. He seemed aware of their ability to Apparate on school grounds," he said, guilt apparent on his face. "Part of how I bred them, I'm afraid. I never intended that they should be used _against_ Hogwarts one day."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Well, they would certainly be a fine asset to the security of this school, when one considers it."

Slytherin brightened, "Exactly! There will be no corner unavailable to them. No passage, no drain and no hallway. A sneak attack would be all but impossible upon this school. They could Apparate to you with a warning of intruders before they could even make it to the castle."

With a slow nod of his head, Dumbledore examined Slytherin closely. "May I ask you something, Salazar?" he finally said, his tone careful.

"Of course."

Dumbledore seemed to hesitate before saying anything else, but finally seemed to find the words. "Did you..." he sighed again. "Were you, Salazar, the one to make the prophecy about the downfall of Hogwarts?"

Slytherin stood unmoving before Dumbledore's desk, his face suddenly stony and solemn. He watched the Headmaster for a long while before answering. "Would that make a difference to you, Albus?" he asked softly.

Snape felt something inside his ancestor shift. A dark and bitter sadness rose slowly to the surface of his mind and he felt Slytherin moan internally. Before his eyes, a black whirlpool of memory and emotion slowly churned upward from the deepest part of his consciousness. Without understanding how he knew it, Snape realized he was witnessing the pull of a psychic memory as it was drawn from deep within the old Founder. *My gods,* Snape breathed harshly. *Slytherin is a Seer!*

Dumbledore was still watching the old Founder intently. "It would matter only in how it influenced the things you are doing for us," he responded vaguely.

Slytherin pulled himself up to full height and brought his chin up proudly. "Nothing I have done for this school has been done with anything but the best intentions!" he said defensively.

With a patient smile, Dumbledore sat back in his seat. "I realize that, Salazar," he said softly, "but I think there is something about this prophecy that you have not told me, my friend. And, as the newest member of the Founding Four, I think I ought to hear everything."

Slytherin swallowed hard and looked away from the Headmaster. Snape felt a wave of guilt wash over his ancestor and the man suddenly seemed uncertain as to what to do.  

With a sigh, Dumbledore sat forward and crossed his hands on his desk. "Salazar," he said softly, "if it is the fate of this school to fall because of something you have done, I think I can assure you that no one who knows you will hold you responsible. The intentions of your heart cannot be questioned, my friend."

The tears that suddenly stung the old Founders eyes actually made Snape gasp, so filled with bitter regret were they. With a defeated sigh, Slytherin sat heavily in the chair across from the Headmaster. The tears fell freely from his eyes and he made no attempt to wipe them away. "Like most seers," he said softly, "I only had a few visions during my lifetime, but they were, all of them, deeply powerful. The last vision I had was of the fall of Hogwarts." He closed his eyes as though trying to force the images away and it took him a moment to continue. "In the vision, the school burned. Powerful magic had utterly destroyed it. And . . . and I knew . . ." He hesitated again as his throat tightened and he seemed to be having a hard time forcing words out. Instinctively, Snape reached out and wrapped his arms around Salazar's shoulders and pressed his cheek against his chest. Salazar smiled sadly and looked down at him internally. "Thank you, Severus," he whispered and seemed to regain some control of his emotions. "I knew," he said, a bit steadier, "that whatever had destroyed the school was something that I had created."

Dumbledore watched him sadly and finally nodded. "I see," he said softly. "I'm sorry to hear that, Salazar, but we all know if that is true, it was not something you created with that purpose in mind. You are not responsible."

Slytherin nodded and rose from his seat. "Indeed, I thank you, Albus," he managed a weak impression of one of his signature cheerful smiles and pulled his shoulders back. "So, now you know," he said. "I've done all I can to try and neutralize everything I've put out there that might harm this school, whether it be off-spring, large serpents or deadly rumours. I honestly can't think of anything else I might do."

Dumbledore slowly rose from his desk and walked over to stand next to the old Founder. "You have done all you can. I know that," he said with a smile and patted the green book still held tightly to Slytherin's chest. "Now, may I suggest that you go and finish any business you may have before this evening?"

Slytherin straightened and nodded. "Good suggestion," he said with the same strained cheerful tone. With a last nod to Dumbledore, he turned and headed for the office door.

Before he was able to walk through it, however, Dumbledore spoke again, his tone soft and tired. "Salazar, there was one more thing I intended to ask you," he said.

Slytherin closed his eyes briefly and turned slowly back to the Headmaster. "I know," he said. With a sigh, he regarded the old man silently and after what seemed an unbearable amount of time, the old Founder finally began to speak, his voice barely audible and his eyes misted over, _"One day, friends, just over a thousand years hence, Hogwarts will fall at the hands of Salazar's creation. Down will tumble every stone and down will tumble every brick. Fires will rage and voices will wail. But do not cry and do not grieve, for like the Phoenix, it will rise again. From the ashes and the ruin, our fair school will leave the night behind and rise up to greet the day. So, prepare your spirits and prepare your hands, my friends, for the ground upon which she sits, we will sanctify again." _

Snape gasped as his ancestor finished his prophecy. Just over a thousand years hence? Unless he was very much mistaken, Hogwarts had been founded just over a thousand years earlier, had it not?

With a tired sigh, Dumbledore smiled and nodded to Slytherin. 'Thank you," he said softly and turned away. Slowly, he made his way across the room and sank into a seat next to the fire.

After watching the Headmaster for a moment, Salazar sighed. "I'm so sorry, Albus," he said and left the office quietly, tears running freely down his cheeks. 

After the previous evening, Snape could simply not grasp what he had heard. Could not make it fit with what he had seen in that clearing. Hogwarts was going to fall. And unless he was missing something in the prophecy, it seemed that it was destined to fall soon. Shakily, he reached up and grasped his ancestor's hand, suddenly frightened.

A/N:     Hello! First of all, sorry this is a day later than usual. I wasn't happy with the first edit I did, so I went through it a few more times. Second, THANK YOU so much for all the wonderful reviews for my last chapter! It made what would have been an almost unbearable weekend soooooooo much better! Your reviews really do make this so much more fun! I would also like to thank Lilith11 for recently offering to translate this story into German so it can be posted on both the German section of FF.net and on a large German Snape fanfiction site. I was so honoured that someone actually thought it was good enough for that! See you all next week!

A/N#2:   Hello again! An additional thank you to the eagle-eyed reader that pointed out that Nagini is a _she_ not a _he_! I guess I need to read Ootp again. I've fixed the mistakes and re-submitted the relevant chapters. Thanks again! 


	17. Truths

Chapter 17 – Truths 

Slytherin seemed too preoccupied to notice how upset his descendant was as he hurried from the Headmaster's office and out into the empty hallway beyond. He looked up and down the corridors as if searching for something and finally sighed in frustration when he seemed unable to locate it.

Snape, consciously pulling himself from his own distraught thoughts, looked up at his ancestor and noticed his irritation. He immediately recognized what was troubling him, however, as he had certainly gotten to know the man well enough by now to know where his mind always eventually led. *I have a feeling that Rowena went to the kitchens, Salazar, * he offered.

The old Founder looked down at Snape and raised his eyebrow. "Now, how would you know that, my boy?" he asked.

Snape shrugged. "I heard her stomach rumbling at one point during the meeting with Albus and, if I'm not mistaken, I believe she likely feels responsible for Helena's good health at the moment. And, of course, it's too early for breakfast in the Great Hall."

Slytherin nodded and looked impressed. "A true spy," he said and headed immediately towards the hallway that led down to the kitchens. "Obviously good at piecing things together." Slytherin nodded thoughtfully. "Good," he said, more to himself than to Snape.

Luckily, Rowena had been moving slowly and Salazar caught up to her long before she reached the kitchens. With a little burst of speed, he hurried up behind her just as she was passing a large open window overlooking the greenhouses. 

"Rowena!" he panted and stepped in front of her, his expression warm and open.

Rowena stopped abruptly and looked up at him. "Oh, Salazar," she said a bit distantly and immediately looked out the window. "Hello."

Slytherin's brow creased in concern and he put a hand on her upper arm. "Are you alright, my dear?" he said softly. "You seem so far away."

She finally looked back at him and the expression on her face made Snape's heart miss a beat. She looked utterly crestfallen. Before she could bring herself to speak, tears suddenly welled up in her eyes and began to slide down her cheeks.

Salazar immediately placed his book on the nearby windowsill and stepped forward to wrap her in a warm embrace. "There, there, my dear," he soothed. "What is it? What's happened?"

Rowena grabbed onto her fellow Founder and, between sobs, choked out fractured sentences of response. "Didn't listen to her… Ruined her life… Never make it better now!"

Salazar patted her back and leaned his head on hers. "What are talking about, dearest? Who didn't you listen to?"

"Helena," she sobbed into Slytherin's robes. "I stopped listening to her after she said she'd be willing to have a child. I just tuned her out! By the time I paid attention again, she had been screaming for hours for me to hear her and she was utterly devastated! Oh, gods, Salazar! What have I done?"

*Ahhh,* thought Snape. This was becoming a familiar theme today. He thought about Gryffindor not listening to Potter when Nagini was attempting to speak to him and came to a somewhat startling conclusion. The Founders could only hear their descendants when they consciously chose to. If they did not _want_ to hear them, their voices were simply silenced. *Well, * Snape thought, *That would certainly explain her current state of angst. She obviously didn't listen to what Helena had to say about her seducing Salazar with the intention of getting pregnant.*

Slytherin looked annoyed and glanced down at Snape. "That's enough, Severus," he admonished. "That's really not very helpful right now."

Rowena pulled away and looked up at Slytherin. "Your descendant?" she asked, wiping tears away from her face. "What did he say about me?"

Slytherin shook his head and tried to pull her back to him. "Nothing, my dear. He was just being a pest."

Snape straightened, suddenly indigent. *Pest?! Well, I like that!*

Rowena resisted him and kept him from pulling her back into an embrace. "Did he say that I'm a terrible person for not listening to her? Because if he did, then he's right, Salazar!" she said and the tears started again. "I've ruined her life!"

With a sigh, Salazar reached out and rubbed her arm comfortingly. "It's done now, love. There's no point in causing yourself so much grief. And I'm certain that you have not ruined her life, dearest."

Snape snorted. Yes, indeed. It was all very well and fine for him to be cavalier about things since it would be Snape himself and Helena who would be left to pick up the pieces.

With another deep sigh, Slytherin looked pointedly down at Snape. "Severus…" he said warningly.

Snape harrumphed and crossed his arms indignantly.

"I wish we could talk about this privately," Salazar said to Helena with a sigh. "Now _my_ descendant's gotten all hot and bothered about things again."

Helena continued to wipe tears from her face. "I wish I'd followed your lead and kept Helena present. You didn't silence Severus."

Slytherin shrugged, his expression a little guilty. "Well," he said sheepishly, "I _did_ prevent him from forming actual words for a while there." He immediately straightened, however, and looked defiant as though explaining his actions to a parent. "But he _was_ swearing at me at the time!"

For some strange reason Snape actually felt a pang of guilt for having sworn at Salazar and had to harshly remind himself that the man _had_ been stealing his body at the time. The fact that he was 'stealing' it so he could kick Voldemort's backside was entirely beside the point. How was he supposed to have known that? Yes, he soothed himself, swearing had definitely been in order. Snape didn't notice that he was chewing his nails guiltily.

Rowena was still looking at Salazar with watery eyes. "You didn't actually stop listening to him, though, did you? Even if he was saying things you didn't necessarily want to hear. Right?"

With a sigh, Slytherin stepped forward and pulled her back into an embrace. "What's done is done, my dearest," he said softly. "I know your heart, Rowena, and it is a good one. We have all been guilty of arrogance since Helga died and we will all have to try and live with the consequences of it. My advice is to try and do what you can to lessen her distress and then try and prepare yourself for this evening."

Rowena looked up at him and watched him for a long moment. "Why do you love me, Salazar?" she asked softly. "I've never given you anything but grief."

Salazar smiled softly at her and stroked her cheek. "My dear," he breathed, "you simply couldn't be more wrong." He pulled her back to him and rested his cheek on the top of her head. "You have brought me nothing but the purest and most divine happiness."

Snape hoped that he would live long enough to one day experience for himself something that even came close to the pure and radiant love that ran through every facet of his ancestor's being as he held his one, true beloved.

            As Slytherin made his way through the maze of passages that led to his secret chamber beneath the potions classroom, Snape could tell that his ancestor's mind was still back with Rowena Ravenclaw. They had parted with a lingering kiss, agreeing to set their affairs in order before meeting again in the hospital wing later in the evening.

When they reached the heavy wooden door that led to the inner sanctuary of Slytherin's personal chamber, the old Founder lifted his hand and ran it down the centre of it in a straight line. With a low rumble, it opened and swung inwards on its ancient hinges. As Salazar stepped into the room, torches set about the room came magically to life and cast a warm, orange light throughout the room.

The room was unchanged since they had seen it last and Snape's eyes fell immediately to the three pendants sitting silently on Salazar's black desk. With a tired sigh, Slytherin stepped into the room, the door closing automatically behind him, and set the green book on the desk next to the pendants.

He straightened and did a slow circle in the middle of the room, looking at everything surrounding him. Comfortable furniture, books, scrolls, personal items; everything was visually examined. "This is all yours, Severus," he finally said softly.

It took a moment for Snape to register what his ancestor had said. "What?" he asked.

Salazar slowly sank into the leather chair behind his desk and leaned back, weariness evident on his face. "When I leave here, I want you to use this chamber as your own personal space. I know that you already have your own living quarters, but, believe me, this chamber is very different from that. It has secrets that you cannot possibly begin to imagine."

Snape gaped up at Slytherin, his eyes wide with amazement.

Salazar looked down at him and smiled softly. "I won't be needing it anymore, son. I want you to use it and enjoy it. You've earned it."

Slowly, Snape allowed himself to look at the room in a new light. As though it was his. His own personal space. *Oh, yes*, he thought.

"But," Slytherin said, raising his eyebrow.

*Ah,* Snape thought, *here it comes. Nothing is free.*

Slytherin suddenly stood up and walked briskly across the room and stopped before the wall of shelves that held the jars of various floating dead things. With a wave of his hand, the shelves suddenly moved aside to reveal a dark corridor beyond, so long that the end could not be seen, even with the torch light of the main chamber burning brightly. A delicate and magical mist seemed to float inches above the slate floor and a sound that reminded Snape of  tiny bells and breaking icicles could be heard far away down the passage.

Snape gasped, his curiosity suddenly piqued. The air within the corridor crackled with ancient magic and he could feel his pulse quicken with excitement.

"Wouldn't you just love to know what's down there, Severus?" Salazar asked, his voice suddenly rough. "You could never imagine!"

Snape nodded, his eyes wide.

"Well," Slytherin said mischievously, "I'm not going to tell you!" With another wave of his hand, the shelves pulled closed again and the corridor disappeared. Snape felt a tug of disappointment in his chest and sighed in frustration. He looked up at his ancestor. *What do you want me to do?* he asked, resigned.

Salazar clapped his hands together and returned to the desk with a flourish. "Excellent!" he said excitedly and sat back down in the leather chair. He reached out and pulled the green, leather-bound book to him. 

"There are two things I would ask of you," he said, his mood sobering somewhat as he looked at the book's cover. "The first thing I want you to do, my son, is listen," he said as he ran a hand down the ancient, leather tome.

*Listen?* Snape asked. *Listen to what?*

Salazar sighed and closed his eyes heavily. He opened them again after a long moment with what seemed a concerted effort and slowly opened the cover of the book to the first page. "I want you to listen, Severus," he breathed softly, "to the true and unadulterated story of Salazar Slytherin."

A/N:     Hello again! Another huge and genuine thank you for all your wonderful reviews. I LOVE them and have added them to my daily meal program as an essential part of a healthy diet. Yum! Better than chocolate! And thank you to the eagle-eyed reviewer who politely reminded me that Nagini is a she not a he! The chapters have been corrected and resubmitted. Thanks again and see you all next week!


	18. Salazar Slytherin

**Chapter 18 – Salazar Slytherin**

Slytherin looked steadily at the book in front of him, apprehension and nervousness evident on his tired face. Slowly, he opened the cover to reveal the pages within. He fanned through them with a sigh and allowed them to fall back into place again.

As the pages whisked by, Snape noticed that they were all different; different sizes, different paper, different ink, different hand-writing. It took him no time at all to piece together what he was looking at. These were the missing pages from the books they had been looking at that morning in the library. The missing history of Salazar Slytherin.

Snape's mind tried to work out what he was seeing, but couldn't piece it together. *Why?* he finally breathed. *Why were they removed?*

With another tired sigh, Salazar ran his hand over the first page of the book. It appeared to be an entry out of a diary and Snape guessed it was his ancestor's. "Because," the old Founder said sadly, "in order to use me and my name as a rallying point for their cause, it was first necessary for them to erase all evidence of my true beliefs and writings."

Snape's mind continued to work through what he was hearing. *Who?* he finally asked. *What cause? Do you mean Voldemort?*

Slytherin gave a tired laugh. "No," he said. "He was just one of a long line to use me in that way."

*Then who?* Snape persisted. *Who would do this to your memory?*

Salazar shook his head and looked up. "Can you think of no one?" he asked tiredly. "How about the first wizards to target Muggles for elimination?" he said softly.

Something inside Snape shifted and he suddenly understood what his ancestor was saying. *The first Pure Bloods,* he said softly, his insides churning uncomfortably.

Slytherin nodded slowly, his chest heavy with emotion. "Indeed. The first of the 'Pure Bloods'," he spat the words out with venom, "needed a symbolic leader to attach their cause to and lend it legitimacy. More importantly, however, they needed someone who could not question their name being used in such a way, but was still controversial enough to be believable. I was the logical choice."

Snape shook his head and looked back down at the book. *But—but, why didn't they just destroy all this evidence?*

Salazar finally allowed himself a satisfied grin. "Because I am a paranoid creature by nature, my boy!" he said proudly.

With a nod, Snape looked up at him. *You made your writings indestructible!* he said, obviously impressed. 

"Indeed, yes!" he said with a smug sigh. "With a magic too powerful and ancient for any modern wizard to undo," he looked up for a moment. "Well, except Albus maybe."

Snape nodded thoughtfully. *So, they had to remove all your writings and put them in one place and hope they would never be found.*

"Where their safe keeping would be entrusted to the leader of the moment, yes."

*And then rewrite history as they needed,* Snape continued, his mind racing with the new information. Snape suddenly looked up at Salazar, understanding dawning in his eyes. *That's why Voldemort wanted you dead!* he said suddenly. *He found out where the pendants were and realized that you were the one person who could seriously damage the Pure Blood cause. You knew the truth!*

With a smile, Salazar looked down at him, obviously proud. "That's right, son. I knew the truth about myself, as it were. It would definitely take the steam out of things if it was discovered that the "founder" of the movement, well, wasn't. Indeed, that he abhorred it."

Thoughtfully, Snape looked back down at the book before him. *But,* he said slowly, *why you?*

Slytherin sighed heavily and slumped forward onto the desk. "Because, as I said, I was the logical choice, my boy," he said sadly. "I already had a reputation for arrogance and—and," he hesitated and looked down at his ancestor. "And I _did_ have some ideas that, at best, would be considered archaic by today's standards. I gave them all the ground work they needed to use me as their symbolic head. Unfortunately for them, however, my ideas never went as far as they needed them to in order to warrant what they wanted to do, so they recreated me, so to speak."

Snape hesitated, almost afraid to hear anymore. *What sort of ideas did you have?* he asked softly.

Slytherin shook his head. "Too many." He looked back up at Snape. "And this is where you come in, son." He began to randomly flip through the pages again. "The second thing I need from you is for you to write my history. My true history. Warts and all."

Snape looked down at the book and felt a sudden excitement at the prospect being presented to him.

"I warn you, however," Salazar said, "that you will undoubtedly find some of the things you find out about me utterly offensive. The one thing that I can assure you of, though, is that I never, never advocated, suggested or endorsed in way the killing of others. Never!"

Snape glanced up at his ancestor and caught his internal emotions. Slytherin felt desperate for Snape to understand him and not judge him. "Severus," he said softly, "as you read this book, it is important to me that you remember me as I am now. I _do not_ believe the things I did back then. Will you keep that in mind as you read, son?"

Snape nodded up at his ancestor, his eyes wide. Without understanding why, he suddenly felt like hugging his ancestor, but resisted the temptation. Instead he quickly looked back down at the book. *Do you want me to begin right at the beginning of your life?* he asked instead.

Slytherin nodded. "Oh, yes," he answered softly. "It's all here. My personal diary is the first entry in the book."

Snape allowed himself a furtive glance at the shelves hiding the secret passage. *Does that passage have anything to do with what I'll find in here, Salazar?* he asked hesitantly. Something about that hallway made him shiver down to the depths of his soul.

With a tilt of his head, Slytherin also looked at the shelves and a small smile crept onto his face. "Oh, yes, dear boy," he breathed. "It most certainly does. And before your book is complete, you will have taken a little walk down there yourself, I'm sure." The smile suddenly slipped from his face and he looked back down at his descendant. "You, however, will undoubtedly be stronger than I was when you discover what lies at its end."

Snape bit his lip, his heart rate increasing slightly. *What's down there?*

Slytherin smiled and shook his head. "It's best that you don't know until you've read everything. It's important that you understand _everything_ first."

With a frustrated sigh, Snape nodded and looked away. *If you insist,* he offered and Salazar nodded happily. Another thought struck Snape then and he looked back up at the Founder. "After I'm finished with the book, do you want me to return all the pages to their original sources?"

With a sigh, Slytherin sat back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. He regarded the green book for a long moment and then slowly shook his head. "No," he finally said. "I don't think so. The fact that the pieces were removed and placed in this volume has, in itself, become a part of history. Best leave it as it is for future scholars to interpret how they will."

Snape nodded and looked back up at Slytherin. *So, are you going to tell me now?* he asked.

Salazar raised a questioning eyebrow in response. "Tell you what?"

With a sigh, Snape folded his arms and titled his head to the side, his own eyebrow rising. *You said you were going to tell me the story of your life.*

"But," Slytherin said pointing to the book, "it's all in the ..."

Snape shook his head adamantly. *I want to hear it from you!* he smiled mischievously.

With a sigh, Salazar sat back and laced his fingers behind his head. "You are a pest, aren't you?"

Snape didn't reply, merely sat waiting, a look of expectation on his face.

Finally, Salazar gave a small chuckle. "Alright, Severus. I'll give you the condensed version since you'll read all the details for yourself soon enough."

Snape smiled and settled in for a listen.

Slytherin leaned forward again and placed his elbows on the table. As he spoke, his eyes never left the book before him. "Listen closely, Severus, for I shall not be repeating anything. The quick and dirty version of the life of Salazar Slytherin," he said. With a sigh, he seemed to steel himself for the telling, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I was born over a thousand years ago, the exact time, date and location are unimportant and you can look them up for yourself, into a family that would be considered by today's standards as very middle class."

Snape's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had expected to hear that Slytherin was the son of a nobleman, even a king.

Slytherin continued without pause, either unaware of or unconcerned with Snape's response. "My father, like his father before him and his father before him, prepared and sold potions," he glanced with a smile down at Snape who beamed in return, obviously pleased. "He was a well-respected member of the Traditionalist sect of the magical society."

*Traditionalist?* Snape asked, his brows furrowed.

Salazar nodded slowly, his face betraying signs of discomfort. "Indeed," he said softly. "The Traditionalists were a segment of society that wanted things to return to the old ways. They wanted the world to operate the way it had many years before and were not happy about the direction things were going."

*What old ways?*

With a long sigh, Salazar closed his eyes and forced himself to remain calm. "Now, Severus," he said slowly. "What I am about to tell you is something that not many modern day witches or wizards know for the simple reason that history is written by the winners and we did not win the war that was eventually fought with the Progressives. For the sake of peace, it was decided that our beliefs would not be discussed."

Snape sat forward, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Slytherin looked him directly in the eye. "The Traditionalists were a group of wizards whose aim it was to return the world to a time when Muggles regarded us as Gods and worshipped us accordingly."

Snape sat back with a start. Something that had been sitting at the back of his mind, suddenly leapt to the fore. *Oh, by the love of Merlin,* he breathed.

Slytherin watched him evenly, waiting for him to make the connections himself.

*Greek gods...Roman gods...* he said softly. *Not myth...us!*

Salazar nodded slowly. "That's right, my boy. The ancient mythology created by the Greeks and the Romans was basically how ancient Muggles explained our strange abilities and seeming invincibility. They believed we were immortal and all-powerful and that we resided in a mystical land far away."

Snape jumped to his feet, breathing hard. *Here!* he said. *It's here! I saw the Roman construction of the hallways outside this chamber when we first came down here! Only, the Muggle Romans never occupied this part of Britain. Hogwarts is built on the place where the magical ancients used to live!*

Slytherin nodded slowly. "When they weren't off playing with the Muggles, that is," he said with a shake of his head. "There was a relatively small number of witches and wizards back then, so they formed a community far away from the populated world where they could live in peace. Some chose to become involved more closely with the Muggles and took an active interest in them, others didn't."

Snape shook his head. *And those that got involved were eventually worshipped as gods.*

Slytherin nodded again.

Snape slowly looked down at the floor and gulped noticeably. *Then that means that Hogwarts was essentially built on...*

"Mount Olympus, that's right."

Snape slowly sank back down, shaking his head. *This is unbelievable...*

With a sigh, Salazar nodded. "But, alas, all good things must come to an end. Muggles advanced, religion advanced and eventually we were pushed aside. Cast off the throne. Science replaced magic and we were sent packing, as it were."

With a nod of understanding, Snape looked back up at him. *Let me guess,* he said softly. *Over the years that followed, some magical people chose to retreat into hiding and others wished for a return to the old ways.*

With another nod, Slytherin smiled. "You definitely take after my family!" he said proudly. "Just too clever!"

Snape looked up at him, his expression serious. *But,* he said carefully, *in order for things to return to the way they had been...*

"It would have been necessary to force the Muggles back into a state of ignorance, yes."

Snape chewed his lip and looked away from his ancestor, suddenly unable to look at him directly.

The silence lingered between them for a moment and then finally Slytherin reached out to his descendant and placed his hand on his shoulder. "I told you that you probably wouldn't like what you heard about me, son," he said softly.

Snape shook his head and looked back at him. *It's not that, Salazar,* he said earnestly. *It just sounds so much like—like...*

"Like now?"

Snape nodded and looked back at him, his expression earnest and sad. *That's why they used your name then?*

Slytherin nodded sadly. "Indeed. I told you I was a logical choice. I grew up in a household where these sorts of ideas, ideas about the superiority of our kind, were regular meal-time conversation. I spent most of my life espousing them, I am ashamed to admit. As you will see in my writings."

A thought occurred to him and he looked back up at Slytherin. *But you didn't die with these beliefs. I can feel that. What happened to change you?*

Quite unexpectedly, Salazar threw his head back and laughed uproariously. He shook his head with obvious mirth and amusement and looked back down at Snape. "What do _you_ think happened to me?" he grinned.

Snape returned the smile. *Rowena Ravenclaw?* he asked mischievously.

Salazar nodded with obvious amusement and shook his head. "I knew my beliefs were forbidden after the war, but I still continued to cling to them, even after I helped found Hogwarts. Secretly writing about them, always trying to influence the others to start a fifth house to put the Muggleborns in. Ridiculous stuff." He shook his head.

Slytherin grew serious and looked back down at the book. "She refused to marry me because of those barbaric beliefs. At the time, I was furious over it. I even left Hogwarts for a time when she first turned me down. But I eventually saw the light," he shut his eyes for a moment, a wave of sadness passing over him. "It was too late by then, of course," he whispered. "We were both elderly by the time I changed my views and near the end of our lives." He let his head drop to his chest and he sighed deeply.

Snape remained silent out of respect for his ancestor's silent regrets and took the opportunity to think about everything he had heard. It would take him so long to digest all the information he had been presented with that he suspected this little project he'd been entrusted with would likely take him many years to complete. Once finished, however, he had no doubt whatsoever that it would turn the wizarding world upside down. The Pure Bloods would be scrambling, regardless of where the war was at.

Slytherin seemed to come out of his reverie and looked down at Snape. He smiled sadly. "It's time for me to go, Severus," he said quietly.

Startled, Snape looked back up at Salazar. *What?* he said.

"I have to return, " Slytherin said again. "My time here has come to an end, son."

Something in Snape's throat caught and he felt his heart rate increase. His hands began to tremble slightly and his breathing became quicker. *I see,* the calmness of his voice did not betray the sudden panic he could feel rising within him. *It's still early, though, isn't it? You don't have to be in the hospital wing until this evening,* he said reasonably.

Slytherin slowly rose from his leather chair, grabbed his silver pendant from the desk top, and made his way to the large, comfortable sofa in front of the fireplace. "It's time to wrap things up," he said and sank into the couch with a sigh. 

Snape felt the panic welling up inside him now. The desperate thought of the emptiness that would be left in his ancestor's wake was greater than he had anticipated. *Maybe you could stay for a while,* he said, aware that the alarm was beginning to show in his voice. *You could help me with the book. It is yours, after all.*

With a tired smile, Slytherin pulled Snape onto his lap and shook his head. "The longer we occupy the body of a descendant, the more separate the two spirits become. We are almost completely separate now, Severus. Soon, I won't be physically able to leave and you will eventually be pushed out completely. Lost in oblivion."

Completely separate? Snape thought. What was that supposed to mean? They had always been separate spirits. Though, now that he thought about it, there had been a feeling slowly coming over him that the presence of Slytherin was becoming somehow less ephemeral and more solid and permanent, somehow. He had just assumed that it was due to him becoming more familiar with the old Founder's presence. Perhaps it was more than that, though.

Snape mentally looked back up at Slytherin and gasped. His heart seemed to momentarily stop and his hands abruptly began to shake like leaves on a wind-blown tree. Salazar was smiling down at him. Not the fuzzy, mental _presence_ that had always been his ancestor, but Salazar Slytherin himself and the man was breathtaking. His long silver hair and bright green eyes positively glowed and the long face with its straight nose and high cheekbones shone with ancient power. Snape was speechless and stared, open-mouthed, at his ancestor.

Slytherin patted him on the back. "You're finally ready to see me, Severus. I'm glad," he said softly. "You've always been able to _look_ and not _see_. I'm happy you were able before we had to part company."

Snape shook his head, still speechless. Good gods the man had to be tall if Snape himself was looking _up_ at him, even while sitting on his lap. Wait a moment. Why was he sitting on his lap? Had he completely lost his mind? Since when did Severus Snape go around sitting on _anybody's_ lap, much less Slytherin's? 

Snape suddenly leapt up and stood before Salazar, confusion evident on his face. What was the old Founder playing at here, he wondered? He wanted to move away from him but knew that by sharing the same body he could only mentally separate himself so much from the presence of his ancestor.

With a sad smile, Slytherin rose slowly from the sofa and stood before Snape. He mentally looked down at him and put his hand on his shoulder.

Snape gasped again. The man must have been a giant in his lifetime! How long had he been looking up at Salazar now without even being aware of what he was doing? Snape himself was over six feet. Slytherin must have been at least . . .

Something inside Snape suddenly went cold and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Time seemed to halt around him and he could hear the sound of his own blood rushing past his ears. His breathing quickened and he felt sweat prickling at his neck. Slowly, he brought one trembling hand up in front of his face and gasped, his eyes wide with horror. *Oh, gods,* he breathed. *No.*

Salazar knelt down in front of Snape and gently took his trembling hand in his. The small hand disappeared inside the larger one and Slytherin smiled comfortingly at his descendant. "You don't have to be afraid anymore, Severus," he said gently and motioned with his chin to a spot over Snape's shoulder.

Slowly, his knees trembling so badly they threatened to give way beneath him, Snape turned to look behind him. A large, magical mirror hung on the opposite wall, reflecting back the secret room and Snape gasped at what he saw there. He was a child, no older than eight years. His black hair was long and straggly and his face pale and sad. His dark eyes looked haunted and frightened and his slight form seemed too skinny to possibly be healthy. Behind him, Salazar was crouching down, smiling sadly and still holding his descendant's hand. 

Snape felt his knees finally give way and he leaned hard against Slytherin for support. With a flourish, Salazar rose and pulled Snape up with him. He cradled him gently in his arms and sat back down on the sofa. He looked down at Snape, clearly worried, as his descendant stared straight ahead, obviously dazed.

"It's going to be alright, Severus," he said soothingly and lifted him into a hug. Snape's cheek fell against his ancestor's chest and he suddenly began to gasp for air, full panic setting in.

Slytherin rubbed his back patiently and waited for it to pass. He spoke softly as Snape struggled to regain control. "It's o.k., Severus," he said softly. "These things happen sometimes. Most of you _did_ grow up, you know. You developed an adult body, adult intellect even an adult defence system. Very effective one, I might add," he said with a small chuckle. The smile slid from his face. "Unfortunately, a very important part of you, the part right at the very core of your being, didn't have a chance to grow up properly," he said softly. He hugged Snape closer and rested his cheek on the top of his head. "That very important part of you, Severus, never left that dungeon. It's still there, son," he whispered.

Snape gasped at Slytherin's words. Slytherin was right and Snape suddenly knew it. His spirit had been trapped all these years, alone in a dungeon, crying to get out. Everything else had just been coping. Layers and layers of protection and coping. Throwing himself into his potions, he was so good at them! No one could criticize that! How wonderfully distracting. Becoming a Death Eater. Nothing could touch you if you were evil and frightening, could it? Then being a spy. How brave and noble! No one locked up heroes, did they? But, none of it was true. He _was _locked up. Always had been. That voice deep inside that surfaced only when he slept, when he couldn't control it and silence it. The desperate, screaming child's voice that called and begged and pleaded inside him. Slytherin had not been telling him all this time that he was _childish_, he had been telling him that he _was_ a child. 

Snape pressed his eyes shut and shoved his fist in his mouth, trying not to cry. Within seconds, however, he had lost the brief battle and began to wail in Slytherin's arms.

A/N:     Phew! O.k. That was one of the pivotal (and long) chapters that I've been dreading writing! Thank goodness it's done! The story is almost finished, so if you feel a sudden desire to throw a review at me, I'll be waiting with a large net to catch them! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews from the last chapter and we'll see you all next week!


	19. It's What I'm Here For

**Chapter 19 – It's What I'm Here For**

Snape finally seemed to cry himself out and he slowly opened his eyes. He looked up at Slytherin who smiled paternally down at him.

"I don't understand," Snape said softly. "This feels so real."

Slytherin nodded. "Yes," he said softly, still rocking his descendant gently. "It's this room. Permeated with ancient magic, it is. Our spirits are almost completely separate now. In this room, in the presence of such primeval power, it is almost as though we exist as two beings, though of course, we are not."

Snape slowly sat up and looked back at the magic mirror on the wall. He studied the reflection for a moment, allowing the child that he was to sink in. "What is that?" he finally asked.

"The Mirror of Inner Truths, Severus. Very powerful and also very ancient," Salazar whispered. "It shows what is truly inside a person."

Snape looked back up at his ancestor. "How far can I move away from you?"

"Do you want to get closer to it?" he asked.

Snape nodded and glanced back at the mirror. Somehow, he needed to see himself clearly. To see the truly terrible condition he was in internally. 

Slytherin picked him up and placed him on his feet, taking his hand again. "Though we may see one another as clearly separate whilst in this room, we still occupy the same body. That is a physical fact, so we cannot move far away from one another. Come." He led Snape across the room to stand before the magical mirror. 

Snape examined himself in horror. He looked terrible. "You said I was still locked in my father's dungeons," he said hoarsely.

Slytherin nodded and looked into the mirror himself. "Yes," he said and pointed into it. "See?"

Snape wrinkled his brow, trying to see what Salazar was pointing at, when suddenly the images in the mirror began to change. While Snape and Slytherin remained constant, the entire room around them seemed to morph. Snape released Slytherin's hand and stepped closer to the mirror. The room in the reflection had changed into a damp dungeon prison, the floor covered with mouldy straw and rusty chains dangling from the stone walls.

"That's the cell I was locked in!" he said and looked up at Slytherin. 

Salazar looked down at Snape and smiled. Without any warning whatsoever, he put his hand on his descendant's back and pushed him hard toward the mirror. Snape gasped and instinctively put his hands up to break the fall against the glass. Instead of crashing into it, however, Snape simply fell through it and into the room beyond. 

"Good luck in Wonderland, Severus," Slytherin smiled sadly. "Be strong." 

Snape was back in the dungeon of his family's home, lying on the floor, too weak to move. The stones were cold beneath him and his vision was blurred. He felt utterly hopeless and helpless. He knew he was trapped here and that he would never leave. 

He tried desperately to remember the last real, coherent thought that he had had. It must have been when Father locked him in here. Two weeks ago, right? Four weeks? Thirty years? Hmm. He couldn't recall.

A sound outside the heavy dungeon door made him stir, but he could not lift his head to look up. A scraping noise now and a shuffling of feet. He could sense a presence at the small barred window set in the door, but could still not raise his tired head.

"You're not alone, Severus," he heard a gentle voice say. "It's time. Time to leave the dungeon, my boy. Come on, now, lift your head." 

Snape felt something stir in his foggy mind. He recognized that voice. It didn't belong to Father, but seemed almost as familiar somehow. With what seemed more effort than he was capable of making, he slowly lifted his head and looked up at the door. A face beamed back at him, silver hair glowing and mischievous green eyes twinkling. "That's it," the man said. "Time to go now."

Severus frowned and spoke weakly. "But Father said..." 

The grin left the man's face and he rolled his eyes. "Pish to your father, my boy," he said. "It's time to go. Now, get to your feet!" There was something about the man that Severus instantly trusted, though he couldn't think why, considering he hadn't trusted anyone in a very long time. He rolled painfully onto his side and slowly began to push himself up into a sitting position.

The man beamed through the door and nodded approvingly. "Good, good," he muttered, his eyes bright. "That's it."

Severus soon had to rest, however, the effort of sitting up having used up almost all of his energy. His head slumped forward until his chin touched his chest, and he sighed heavily.

"Just a bit more, son," the man said encouragingly. "Look what I've got for you when you get out."

Severus' head came up slowly and he looked up at what the man was holding in the window. An ice cream cone? He couldn't remember the last time he had had ice cream. As though to confirm his offer, the man waved the ice cream cone playfully, smiling broadly. "Yum!" he said and stuck out his tongue as if about to lick at it.

"No!" Severus said abruptly, surprising himself with his own vehemence. He really wanted that ice cream cone, he realized.

The man raised his eye brow. "Well, better hurry then. It's starting to melt!"

With a grunt, Severus leaned over and slowly pushed himself up onto thin shaky legs. He wobbled there for a moment, the room spinning around him. He put one leg forward to balance himself and put his arms out to the sides. He looked up at the man again and realized he was looking at him with the most heartbroken expression on his face. As soon as the man realized he was being observed, however, his expression abruptly changed to one of mischievousness and he waved the ice cream cone again. "Almost there!" he said.

Slowly, Severus put one shaky foot in front of the other and shuffled painfully across the damp room, his eyes never leaving the ice cream cone in the window. He licked his lips as he reached the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily from his efforts. He looked back up at the man in the window. "Can you open the door for me?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

The man suddenly looked sad and shook his head. "No, son," he said. "Only you can do that."

Severus shook his head, the feeling of hopelessness threatening to overwhelm him again. "But it's locked," he said, tears forming in his black eyes. "I've tried it already. Loads of times."

"Maybe this will help," the man said and offered Severus the ice cream cone through the bars of the window.

Severus' brow creased. How could that help him open the door? With a sigh, he reached up and took the cone anyway. He wouldn't be able to open the door with it, but he could at least eat it, he reasoned. He looked at the melting ice cream and felt something deep inside stir. What was that? Hope?

Severus closed his eyes and licked the ice cream. Instead of the sweet, sticky taste of chocolate, however, he tasted nothing but cold metal and he immediately pulled his tongue away. He opened his eyes abruptly and looked at the cone in annoyance. What was this man playing at? His eyes popped open at what he saw, however. The cone had transformed into a large, brass key.

Without knowing how he knew it, Severus immediately understood that the key opened the door to his prison. He looked up at the window, a smile across his face, intending to thank the man. The smile slid from his face, however, when he realized that the man had vanished.

"Hello?" Severus called tentatively. "Are you still there?"

Silence.

Severus swallowed and looked at the key, his hands trembling slightly. He shouldn't really leave the dungeons, he knew. Father had told him to stay there until he came for him. He would be in terrible trouble if he left before he was supposed to. But, he thought, he _was_ awfully hungry and thirsty. And lonely. Other then the nice man with the ice cream, it seemed like ages since anyone had come to talk to him down here. Two weeks, in fact. Or was it thirty years?

He stood fingering the key thoughtfully, trying to decide what to do, when he suddenly heard another familiar voice outside the door. It was further down the hall, though, and this one, Severus _did_ immediately recognize. Father.

Instinctively, Severus shoved the key into his pocket, hoping to hide it from his vengeful father. He would never believe him if he told him he had not intended to use it. Father did not appear to be talking to him, however, Severus suddenly realized. He was talking, in a raised voice, to someone at the end of the hall, outside his cell.

"He's staying there until I say so!" Father yelled harshly. "A good for nothing excuse for a son, he is! Lazy, stupid and ugly! Should have done myself a favour and exposed him at birth!"

Severus put his head down and stared at his feet. What he was hearing was nothing knew, but it hurt all the same.

And then he heard another voice. The voice of the ice cream man. He, however, wasn't yelling. Severus lifted himself onto his toes and tried to peer out the window. Despite the fact that the man wasn't yelling like Father had been, his voice still seemed to carry more power and presence. He managed to peek over the edge and looked into the hallway beyond.

His father, tall, dressed in black and looking for all the world like a human bat, faced the ice cream man menacingly. The ice cream man, for his part, did not seem the least intimidated. On the contrary, he seemed to radiate strength and ancient power. He tossed back his silver mane of hair and laughed at Father, his face wide with a mocking grin. Severus gasped. He had never seen anyone dare to laugh at Father before!

"Oh, please," the ice cream man said, his hands placed jauntily upon his hips. "Who do you think you're talking to here?" Father scowled, the hatred deepening into his ugly features. The ice cream man seemed not to notice. "You are evidently unaware, sir," the ice cream man continued, "that I know Severus better than almost anyone else alive." He looked at his fingernails. "Indeed, I happen to know that everything you're saying is a load of donkey dung."

Fathers hands clenched into fists and his face glowed with rage. "How dare you question my..."

As Severus watched, the ice cream man casually stepped forward and slapped Father squarely across the face. Severus gasped and his eyes popped open in shock. Father's face turned so red it looked as though it might actually explode. Before he could speak, however, the ice cream man continued his speech. "I happen to know that Severus is actually a highly intelligent, brave and handsome boy. I, for one, am extremely proud of him."

Severus blinked. He was? 

Severus' father stepped forward menacingly and raised a fist towards the ice cream man. Without warning, he swung hard at the man's head, his face crimson with fury. The ice cream man easily ducked aside. As Father completed the unconnected swing, he momentarily turned away from his prey. The ice cream man took quick advantage of this and reached out to slap his backside hard. The resulting _thwap!_ echoed across the dungeon.

Severus put his head back and laughed raucously.

Father stood up straight and looked over at Severus in the window. The smile immediately slid from the boy's face and he watched his father with cold terror. 

"You will pay for that one, boy," he growled and stepped towards the cell. 

From behind, the ice cream man stepped forward and grabbed Father by the arm. He looked directly at Severus. "I can't dance with him forever, son," he said gently. "You have to help."

Father pulled his arm away from the ice cream man and turned on him again, his fists flying again. The ice cream man ducked and twisted, easily staying out of the man's reach. He looked over at Severus, his eye brows lifted questioningly.

Severus bit his lip. Help? Did he mean, escape from Father? But, what would happen to him if Father was gone? He would be out of the prison, yes, but then he would be alone. He didn't think he was strong enough for that. He watched the two men circling one another and tried to think. He didn't believe he could stand being alone, but...

Something stirred somewhere deep inside. Wait a minute, he thought. He _was_ alone. He had been alone for so long now that he didn't even recognize he was anymore. In fact, the first time he hadn't felt alone in almost thirty years had been when he had been visited by...visited by...

Snape's head snapped up and he looked out the cell window. He noticed immediately that the view of the circling men seemed different and he looked down at his own hand. Long and slender and ... adult.

Snape immediately grabbed the key from his pocket and jammed it into the heavy lock. He cranked the key to the right and heard the lock pull back. He yanked the door open and stepped out into the hall.

"I'm here, Salazar!" he yelled. 

Father's head snapped around at the sound of the voice behind him and he stopped cold. He looked Snape up and down, seemingly unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Snape lifted his head and returned his gaze evenly.

Father's expression darkened and he turned threateningly back to Slytherin. "You!" he growled. "You did this!" he screamed and stepped forward, arms outstretched and fingers curled like talons.

Slytherin beamed at Snape and pointed to the key in his hand. "My gift to you," he said. "Whatever you need." With a snap of his fingers, Salazar suddenly vanished and Father's fingers swiped through empty air.

The moment Slytherin vanished, Snape felt his newly found adult form waver slightly as though it were a mould not quite set yet. Somehow he knew that he had yet to earn this new adulthood and felt himself begin to panic a bit at his sudden aloneness.

Father turned abruptly upon finding his nemesis gone and stared at Snape for a moment. "Back in the cell," he finally hissed and took a step towards Snape.

What happened next, Snape would always remember as his moment of awakening. As abruptly as a page turning in a book, his perception seemed to change. He suddenly saw the mental events taking place around him not from the perception of a frightened child, but from that of a grown man, experienced and wise. Father could not be real, he thought logically, because Father was dead and had been for a very long time. This black thing and its wicked prison cell were illusions. They were a manifestation of his own fears, hurts and insecurities. And it was not going to be telling him what to do anymore.

Snape put his chin up and narrowed his eyes. "Go straight to hell," he said to the image of his father. "If you're not already there, that is."

Father hesitated and cocked his head to the side as though misunderstanding what he had heard. "What?" he growled.

"It's over. You've lost." The certainty with which Snape spoke the words vanished rather abruptly, however, as the images of his father and the surrounding dungeon suddenly began to shudder and moan ominously. Father's face began to melt like a candle held too close to a flame and the colours of the dungeon began to melt together.

Snape instinctively shrank back but quickly realized that he had no where to go. He was just as much a part of this vision as the surroundings now contorting themselves around him.

Father melted from the head down until he was nothing but a black pool on the dungeon floor. The dungeon itself quickly followed until all colour had melted together into the oily slick in front of Snape. Breathing hard, he looked around and realized that he was surrounded by a strange mist. From within that mist, however, came a sound he found familiar. A tinkling sound. Like small bells or breaking icicles. He turned his attention back to the black pool before him, his heart suddenly pounding wildly in his chest. Slowly, the pool began to move and churn and bubble, like some evil potion set on a high flame. Snape stepped back again, his breathing fast and irregular. Where had Slytherin gone? he suddenly wondered. Why had he left him?

With a suddenness that sent Snape reeling backwards off his feet, the black pool exploded outward and morphed into a huge black dragon, twenty feet tall and breathing molten flame. Snape flung his arms over his face and screamed. He pulled himself away from the beast with one hand while still holding the other before him for protection.

The dragon put back its head and roared with pure black hatred, the fire of its wrath releasing into the nothingness around them. Snape was trapped in place by a sudden dread that compared to nothing he had ever experienced. The dragon continued to howl and shoot angry flame all around Snape, almost touching him, pinning him down. He suddenly realized that he would never be able to move from this spot. He was trapped. He felt an angry tear leave his eye and travel down his hot face. The blackness had won after all. It seemed he was fated; fated to be held captive by his own hate and his anger and his fear. He dropped his arm and let his chin fall to his chest. Bitter tears of defeat slid down his face as he realized the darkness had won. He was fated to stay Severus Snape, the greasy foul tempered git, for the rest of his days. 

With a sigh of resignation, Snape closed his eyes and prepared to return to his waiting body on the other side of the mirror. The dragon almost seemed to smile above him as it took another deep breath, preparing another terrifying tirade to send him on his way.

And then he heard it again. The tinkling. Like small bells. Or breaking icicles. What _was _that sound? He suddenly needed to know. He looked around for the source. It seemed to emanate from the mist itself, from everywhere.

The dragon roared again, muffling the soft sound. Annoyed, Snape turned to the dragon and yelled, "Will you shut up! I'm trying to hear something!" The dragon halted halfway through its terrible roar and raised its eyebrows. A small puff of black smoke left its nostril.

Snape also raised his eyebrow and slowly turned to look at the beast. The dragon seemed to realize what it had done and immediately furrowed its brow in a display of anger and roared a terrible roar, shooting flame deep into the fathomless depths.

With sudden realization, Snape looked down at the hand that held the brass key and became conscious of the fact that it was now a large, black whip. His eyebrows shot up again and he sprang to his feet. Slytherin had said that it would be whatever he needed it to be! His gift, he had said!

The dragon continued to roar aggressively, its head back in a display of terrible rage. With his own indignant anger building within him, Snape snapped the thick whip back over his head and brought it crashing down across the beast's nose with a great wrenching snap. 

The dragon yelped and jumped back, its paws going immediately to its red nose. It's eyes shot open and it looked at Snape, surprised. Snape stepped forward and snapped the whip again near the animal's head, causing it to back up another step. The dragon seemed finally to take great offence to the attack and reached out a paw towards Snape, hissing menacingly.

Snape reached back again and brought the whip down hard across the back of the beast's paw. It yelped again and withdrew it into its mouth, where it proceeded to whine and suck on its newest wound. It looked confused and uncertain, but quickly recovered. It's eyes narrowed dangerously and it pulled its paw from its large, razor-toothed mouth. It seemed to grin wickedly at Snape, opened its mouth slightly and took in a deep breath.

Snape brought the whip back behind him but did not strike immediately. "You breath fire at me and I will bring this across your nose so hard, you'll be needing a new one!" he yelled at the creature.

The dragon abruptly closed its mouth and let the air out through its nose. It looked at Snape sideways and eyed the whip carefully, seeming to consider its options. 

"Listen to me," Snape finally said to it. "I know what you are."

The dragon raised its eyebrows in an "oh-do-you-now?" way and began to suck on its wounded paw again, obviously thinking hard.

"Indeed I do," Snape continued. "You're my hatred, my sarcasm, my hurt and my fear. You are everything black and ugly about me," he said evenly, never letting his eyes leave the beast.

The dragon shrugged and pulled its paw from its mouth. It settled down on its haunches and watched Snape with interest. 

"Basically," he continued, "Things that I cannot be without in my life without risking certain death."

The dragon raised an eyebrow, obviously surprised at the admission. It nodded slowly and smiled a toothy grin of triumph.

"Having said that, however," Snape continued, "the roles are about to be reversed. I am now the master. I control you, you do not control me!"

The dragon stood abruptly and roared in anger. A stream of fire flew from its mouth and it suddenly charged at its nemesis. Snape brought the whip down on the beast with a terrible magical howl and the dragon fell heavily onto its side with a great cry of agony.

Panting and sweating, Snape approached the dragon and stood beside it. It lay motionless for several moments before slowly opening one wary eye. As soon as it saw Snape and his magical whip, however, it yelped and covered its nose protectively. As Snape watched, the dragon suddenly shrank until it was no more than four feet long. It huddled at Snape's feet, shivering and moaning.

Snape sighed and looked down at the whip. He was not surprised to see that it had become a long, black leather leash, green and silver spikes alternating along the collar. Snape could not help but laugh at the sight and wondered who had conjured the spikes, his mind or Slytherin's. With a quick flick of the wrist, Snape clipped the collar and lead onto the dragon and yanked at the end of it.

The dragon abruptly struggled to its feet and looked at Snape. It's yellow eyes slowly fell to the leash in Snape's hand and they narrowed in anger. It looked back up at Snape, now several feet taller than it was, and snarled menacingly, showing its razor teeth. Snape reached out and swatted it across the nose like a bad dog. The dragon yelped again and grabbed its snout, indignation evident on its face. It finally snorted a puff of black smoke, gave Snape one last withering look and curled up at his feet, closing its eyes in resignation.

"I like your new pet, Severus," a familiar voice said from the mist.

Snape turned as Slytherin emerged from the fog, his face bright with a wide grin. "Salazar!" he said happily and stepped forward to greet his ancestor. "Where were you?"

"Nearby," Salazar said, indicating over his shoulder with his head.

Snape sighed and nodded. "Ah," he said softly. "That sound. The bells. That was you. You're spirit."

Slytherin nodded. 

The dragon snorted and opened one eye to look at them, obviously not impressed with the conversation. It pulled slightly at the lead.

"Hmmm," Slytherin said thoughtfully. "You're going to have to watch him. I don't think he's going to relinquish control easily."

Snape nodded and looked at the dragon. "I know. I've lived under it almost all my life." He looked back up at Slytherin. "But it's never getting control again. Never."

Salazar nodded and put a hand on Snape's shoulder. "I know," he said softly.

Snape smiled at the old Founder and was about to speak, when he suddenly felt the mist closing in around him. His voice seemed to catch in his throat and he could not find words to speak. The sound of distant bells, or was it breaking icicles, appeared from all around them and Salazar smiled serenely at his descendant. "Tell Rowena farewell for me, Severus," he said softy, the mist beginning to surround them now. "I never was able to say good-bye to her." 

Snape felt his heart begin to beat quickly and he tried to reach out to his ancestor but found he could not move. His eyes widened in fear and he tried to speak again. 

Slytherin nodded sadly, the mist now so thick that Snape could hardly see him anymore. Slowly, Salazar reached out his other hand and pulled Snape into a hug. What he felt coming from Slytherin then could never have been expressed in words anyway so he leaned willingly into the Founder's embrace. Pride, acceptance and unconditional love flowed over him and through him. Things he had never felt before. They filled the empty spaces of his soul and wound their way into the cheerless fissures of his spirit. A warm light seeped through the mist and the sound of bells seemed to reach a crescendo before fading softly. Severus closed his eyes and leaned his head on his ancestor's shoulder, a sigh of great contentment and gratitude escaping his lips.

"Thank you," Snape said softly.

Salazar gently patted his back, his voice soft and far-away. "It's what I'm here for."

Snape opened his eyes again to find that the warm light had faded, the mist had enveloped him wholly and his vision was completely obscured. 

Darkness finally overtook him and he felt something precious slip from his grasp.

A/N: Well. I decided that I just couldn't wrap this up in one last chapter, so there will still be one more! Poor Snapey just had too much to do! Thank you all soooooo much for your wonderful, encouraging reviews. They just absolutely make my day, not to mention making this whole writing thing worth doing! Have a wonderful weekend and see you all next week!


	20. Hope

**Chapter 20 - Hope**

The moment Snape opened his eyes he knew he was alone. The world felt still, like it had stopped breathing, stopped turning. Like it was waiting to see what would happen next.

He sat up slowly and looked around Slytherin's private chamber, his eyes coming to rest on the magical mirror on the far wall. He could see only himself now, seated on the dark green sofa, and quickly looking away.

Snape glanced down at his hand and immediately saw the long, silver chain dangling from between the fingers of his clenched fist. Slowly, he opened the shaking hand until the silver serpent of Slytherin's pendant glinted in the dancing firelight. The green emerald eye seemed to be watching him and Snape could not suppress a smile. He'd like it if that were true, he realized. He had become so accustomed to the feeling of Salazar's paternal presence and the sense of safety that accompanied it that he could hardly bear the thought of trying to carry on without it.

The memory of his ancestor stopped Snape short and he felt a tear trying to escape from behind his eye. How could he have wished so vehemently for Salazar's departure? Now that he had returned to his pendant, Snape felt more alone than he had at any other time in his life, even while locked in his father's prison. He found himself wondering if he would have to carry this gaping hole inside him for the rest of his life.

Idly, Snape glanced up at the wall of shelves that shielded the secret door Slytherin had shown him earlier and his breath caught in his throat. That sound, he thought. The sound of small bells and shattering ice that accompanied Slytherin's spirit. It was the same sound he had heard down that darkened hallway!

With a gasp, Snape jumped to his feet and thought of hurrying over to the shelves. He hovered there for a moment, however, suddenly remembering the promise Slytherin had made him make. He had said to his ancestor that he would not go down the corridor until he had read the entire book of Salazar's writings and understood everything contained there.

He sighed with frustration at having made the promise and turned to look at Salazar's black desk. His eyes lingered on the green book for a moment before travelling over to the other two Founder's pendants which lay next to it.

With a start, Snape realized that he had likely been either fighting his internal demons or sleeping off the after-effects for most of the day. The remaining Founders would probably already be waiting in the infirmary for himself and Slytherin to arrive. He sighed and shook his head. How would he explain to Rowena that Slytherin had left without saying a proper good-bye to her?

Rowena. The thought made Snape sigh deeply again. She would not be Rowena for long. Helena would be returned soon and this time carrying his child. _Oh, Merlin!_ he thought desperately. _What am I going to say to her?_

He decided it would be best to face the music as soon as possible. Snape seized the other pendants and, with a last glance at the secret chamber, swept from the room and into the hallway beyond where he abruptly tripped over his own feet and landed hard on the stone floor in front of him.

He pushed himself up slowly, glad his hands had shot up instinctively to protect his face. Well, he reasoned, it was apparent he was going to have to take this a little slower. He had obviously forgotten how to coordinate his own movements over the past few days while someone else had been at the helm.

Snape was suddenly extremely relieved that he had, at least, discovered this unexpected side effect without an audience present. Immediately, he found himself hoping that Potter _would_ have an audience when he went sprawling across the hospital ward after Godric's departure. Severus laughed aloud at the mental image and immediately stopped, startled by the unexpected feelings welling up inside himself. His laugh had felt strange. Light, somehow. As though it were coming from a different part of his mind. How strange, he thought. He _had_ been thinking about someone else's possible humiliation, after all. How different could it have been from what he would have found amusing before his experience with Slytherin?

And then it dawned on him. It dawned on him what Salazar had been trying to tell him all along. The old Founder had never said that Severus should be a _different_ person. Just a happier, more contented version of who he already was. Like Slytherin himself. The man had never made any attempt to apologize for the fact that he was a scoundrel at heart. He embraced it even. It was part of who he was and he wore it proudly. His strength came in knowing when he was causing harm and then trying to deal with it.

For the first time since he was a very young child, Severus felt the sudden overwhelming sensation of true freedom engulf him. He understood for the first time that he no longer had to apologize for who he was. He had admitted his failures and done everything in his power to make up for them. Even putting his own life on the line time and time again in the process. Yes, there were still things to work on. But, now he knew. He knew what Slytherin had done for him. He had cleared the way. Nothing more. He had not changed Snape. He had merely allowed him the chance to choose a happier road to travel.

Severus Snape was not at the end of the journey. He was at the beginning.

It was with this in mind, that he traversed the hallway back to the stairs that led up to his class room, his face wide with an optimistic grin. He had forgotten the feeling of true hope and it was wonderful to experience it again.

In retrospect, Severus knew that he should not have been the least bit surprised to see Dumbledore waiting for him in his potions classroom when he emerged from the stairwell beneath his desk. Of course he would be. He was Dumbledore. And this was a significant moment.

Snape stopped when he saw the Headmaster and sighed. He shook his head and smiled ruefully at the older man. "Well," he said and swiped his hand through the air above the desk, causing it to close over the stairs. "I suppose I should be anticipating some sage advice?" he said, a smile curling the corner of his lips.

Dumbledore returned the smile and looked down at Severus' hand. "Ah," he said with a nod. "I see you have the pendants. Good."

Snape also looked down at the necklaces in his hand and the smile faded from his lips. "I didn't think it would be so hard to let him go," he said softly.

Dumbledore nodded sadly, "I know, Severus," he said. "But he is still here." Dumbledore motioned to the pendants and smiled again. "In fact, why don't you take this one too, now that you have them all in one place."

Snape looked up as Dumbledore handed him a fourth necklace. He took it by the chain from the Headmaster's hand and gazed at the swinging pendant. He smiled and laughed. "Of course," he said as he watched the small red phoenix swing lazily before his eyes. The jewelled golden eye sparkled suspiciously like another eye he knew only too well.

Severus looked up at the old Headmaster, his brow raised questioningly. "Is your—that is to say, have you—"

Dumbledore smiled, amused at Snape's uncharacteristic discomfort. "An imprint of my spirit has been placed inside the pendant, yes," he said. "The moment I touched it, it morphed into the phoenix. Now the Pendant of Dumbledore, I suppose."

"Was it originally Helga Hufflepuff's pendant?" Snape asked softly, almost reverently.

Dumbledore nodded sadly and watched the pendant swing slowly.

Severus looked around the room and sighed deeply. "What do you suppose will become of Hogwarts, Headmaster?" he finally asked, deep sadness obvious in his voice.

Dumbledore shrugged. "I do not know for certain, Severus," he said, regarding the younger man over his glasses. "But I do know this. Whatever happens is meant to happen and nothing we can do will prevent it."

Snape allowed a small snort and he let the pendant slide into place with the others. "I didn't think you believed in fate, Albus," he said.

Dumbledore did not laugh, but regarded his Potions Master seriously. "I believe that some things cannot be avoided nor can they be changed," he said and Snape found himself listening closely to the wise old wizard. "I believe that Salazar was right and that Hogwarts will fall one day. Perhaps one day soon. But, it will not fall in the way we assume it will. Or even for the reasons we think it will."

Snape raised his head and regarded the Headmaster with furrowed brows. "You know something, don't you Albus?" he whispered. "About what is to happen here."

Dumbledore watched the younger man for a long moment before he finally smiled, his face once again gentle. "We should go to the infirmary, Severus," he said. "I believe the Founders are already cutting their departure rather close."

Severus sighed with annoyance at the old man's evasiveness and stuffed the pendants into his pocket. He followed him reluctantly out the door.

Snape sat outside the hospital wing, waiting. Dumbledore had suggested that each of the Founders take some private time with their descendants before departing, so Severus had adjourned to the waiting area outside the infirmary. He sighed and looked around, hoping to find something interesting to occupy his mind while he waited. His eyes fell on the window nearby and he could not help smiling to himself. It had been the very same window where Salazar had stood and declared his undying love for Rowena Ravenclaw to the entire world. He chuckled and looked away. Ah, Salazar. A true character if ever there was one.

Rowena, had not been the least bit surprised to find that Slytherin had not made it up to the hospital wing to say good-bye to her before returning to his pendant. She had not expected him to. She knew him and knew that he simply did not have the heart to say good-bye to her. Their encounter in the hallway that morning would be their last until they met again. _One step ahead of him as usual_, Snape thought and chuckled again.

Gryffindor, on the other hand, had seemed truly upset that he had not had a chance to speak to Slytherin one last time to try and make things up before parting. Snape had assured him that his ancestor had held no ill feelings towards him and that he had, in fact, been genuinely fond of him. Godric had seemed placated somewhat by his words and had shaken Severus' hand with sincere warmth..

Snape jumped when the hospital door finally opened and he looked up in anticipation. Poppy Pomfrey nodded at him and smiled. "They're all back in their pendants, Severus," she said kindly. "You can come in now."

He slowly followed Madam Pomfrey into the ward, aware that his heart had suddenly started beating faster. He stretched his neck to try and force himself to relax and shoved his hands into his pockets so any slight shake might not be noticed. He instinctively began to check the beds for any sign of Helena, trying desperately not to be obvious about it.

At the end of the ward, he saw a long privacy screen erected and knew immediately that Potter and Helena were behind it. As they drew closer, he could hear Dumbledore speaking softly to someone.

When they reached the screen, Pomfrey turned to him and said quietly, "Helena Ravenclaw is going to be asleep for at least twelve hours. Maybe longer. As a Muggle, this was very hard on her. Mr. Potter is awake, though."

She turned away before she could see the smirk and rolled eyes levelled at her by the Potions Master and headed back to her office. He could not help being somewhat disappointed at finding he couldn't speak to Helena, but also experienced a slight relief at having a bit more time to work out what he was actually going to say to her.

He was about to step around the partition when he heard Potter sigh deeply and decided to stay where he was for a moment. He leaned closer to the partition and eavesdropped without guilt.

"I don't know," Harry said, his voice distant and thoughtful. "He just wasn't what I was expecting, you know?"

Snape heard a rustling of cloth and imagined that he could see Dumbledore nodding with sympathy.

"He was just so bull-headed. He wouldn't listen to anyone! Not even me and I was really trying to tell him some important stuff!" Harry continued, his voice rising with emotion. "I mean, that snake. Nagini. She was trying to talk to him and he just wouldn't pay attention to me and I was just trying to tell him stuff that was for his own good. He just thought he had all the answers and didn't have to listen to anyone, you know? He just charged ahead and did what he thought needed to be done, even when other people were telling him not to, you know?"

Snape rolled his eyes and shook his head. He stepped around the partition and smirked down at his Harry. "Sounds shocking, Potter," he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "I find it hard to believe you're descended from him."

Dumbledore managed to suppress a grin and looked down at the ornate wooden box he held securely in front of him.

Harry sat up in bed, clearly indignant. "_I'm_ not like that!" he spat defensively.

Snape crossed his arms and smirked again. "Hmmm," he said softly. "I have a mirror you should see some time."

Harry's brows furrowed in confusion and he regarded his potions professor for a long moment. "What was it like for you, sir?" he finally asked. "If I'm allowed to ask."

Snape wasn't certain what he had been expecting his student's response to be, but it hadn't been this. All of the sarcasm seemed to drain from him and he found himself looking down at the floor and sighing deeply. He answered without looking up, his face softening visibly. "Exactly the opposite to yours, I suppose," he said softly. "You are just like your ancestor and wish that you weren't. I'm nothing like mine and I wish that I was."

Dumbledore smiled gently and nodded. He turned toward the privacy screen. "I need to deal with the Founder's Pendant Box, so I will leave you two to talk. Join me for tea this evening, Severus," he said kindly and disappeared from sight.

Snape nodded and watched the Headmaster leave, then turned back to the infirmary beds in front of him. His eyes wandered over to the figure in the bed next to Harry's and his mouth twitched into a smile before he could stop himself. Helena lay sleeping quietly, her long bronze hair trailing over the side of the bed.

Harry noticed Snape's response and glanced over at her as well. "What's going to happen to her now?" he asked, looking back up at Snape.

Snape also sighed and sat down on the side of Harry's bed. He shook his head and forced himself to look away from her. "I don't know. The Founders left us in a bit of a dilemma."

Harry nodded. "Godric told me."

Snape had to force down a sudden anger at realizing Potter knew something so personal about him. "I am assuming," he said icily, "that I do not have to tell you that this information is not to become public knowledge by way of the Potter Grapevine."

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled his blankets up. "You can accuse me of some things, Professor, but not of gossiping. I don't do that kind of thing." He reached over to his bedside table and huffily grabbed a glass of water. He put it to his lips and drank deeply.

Snape nodded and looked back at Helena. "You're right, Potter. I apologize."

Harry choked and had to sit up, water sputtering out of his mouth. "Pardon!" he managed through his coughing.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Potter," he said. "Have you taken up slapstick? Should I hit you over the head with a rubber bat now?"

Harry's eyes popped open for a moment before he suddenly put his head back and laughed uproariously. Snape looked down at the floor and allowed a small grin to creep onto his face.

By the time Harry had controlled himself, he was holding his sides and gasping for breath.

"It wasn't that funny, Potter," Snape said, shaking his head.

"Trust me," Harry said, wiping tears from his eyes, "coming from you, it was hilarious!"

"It would have been funnier if it had been a rubber chicken," a soft voice said from nearby.

Both Snape and Harry whipped their heads around to look at Helena. She lay on her side, watching them with tired eyes, a small smile on her lips.

"I'm sorry!" Harry said hurriedly. "I thought Madam Pomfrey had given you a Sleeping Draught!"

She shook her head weakly. "No, it's alright," she said. She looked over at Snape and the two locked eyes for a long moment. They both smiled at the same instant and then Helena's eyes fluttered shut again, the smile fading from her lips.

Snape felt his heart warm and the smile on his face grow. The feeling of hopefulness had returned and he felt as light as air. He stood up and looked down at Harry. "I should go before we wake her again," he whispered.

Harry nodded in agreement. He watched as his Professor turned and stalked out of the ward, robes billowing as usual. He shook his head in disbelief and wondered what had happened during the time he had spent with his ancestor. It felt like something significant had taken place. Like a window had opened somewhere and a ray of light had broken through the darkness. Harry smiled.

Snape stalked through the corridors of the teacher's residence wing, heading towards his personal chambers. He intended to sleep and freshen up before dinner in the Great Hall and then, perhaps, he would go back to the hospital wing and visit Helena again. And Harry. Hmmm. Yes, Harry too. He suspected that they actually might have a lot of things in common, if they gave one another a chance. Maybe.

Snape felt his heart miss a beat when he thought of Helena. So many unknowns and what ifs. His future felt wide open for the first time in his life. Full of choices and possibilities. And hope.

A soft breeze swept across his face and Severus stopped in his tracks. He looked over at the bank of stain glass windows to his right and smiled. This had been the same spot where Slytherin had stood and enjoyed the feeling of sun on his face for the first time in a thousand years. Without thinking, Severus stalked to the window and opened it with a flourish. The scent of spring flowers wafted over him, carried on the early evening breeze.

With a laugh, Severus Snape threw open his arms, put back his head and welcomed in the sun.

The End

A/N: It's done! I can't quite believe it. I'm actually feeling a bit sad right now. I would LOVE it if everyone who has read this would leave a review for it. I'd really like to know what people thought of it! The reviews that were left throughout the process of writing this were such a huge inspiration and I loved receiving them.Thank you all a thousand times over. This has been an amazing experience. Thanks again and take care everyone!


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